Leaving Castle Leoch
by AtHeart150
Summary: Castle Leoch - The Gathering Claire escapes Castle Leoch in an attempt to return to the Stones and Frank. Includes Graphic/Rape - sorry :o(
1. Chapter 1 - The Escape

Leaving Castle Leoch

Right. I set my shoulders and walked forward into the barn. Auld Alec was there. I walked up to him and asked for Jamie. The older man said, "Jamie was'na to be bothered right now. What can I do for you Mistress Beauchamp?"

"Dougal said I would need a horse for tomorrow's hunt. He wants a healer to go along." I stated firmly. He glared at me, like I was the last thing on this earth he wanted to deal with. Was it because I was a woman or just because the man simply hated me? Clearly I irritated him; I could see it in his eyes. What ever had I ever done to him?

He walked away talking. I could not understand this man. It was the King's English, not Gaelic, but with such a heavy Scottish accent that it hit my ears as gibberish; I could not understand a word the bloody man was saying. I simply stared after him in disbelief. He stopped. I guessed all that rambling meant that I should have followed him because after he stopped, he turned around and gave me a look like I was stupid or something. I trotted to catch up and then he turned and started walking down an aisle of stalls, all with horses in them. He was talking again. More gibberish. I sighed.

Where the bloody hell was Jamie? I thought he said he worked in the stables. He was my sole friend here in this horrid place. In this strange and frightening time. He was the only reason I was surviving and not thinking of leaping off the top of the castle wall in an effort to kill myself. I really don't know what I would do without him. Jamie made this whole surreal, back in time thing not make me crazy. I had him to talk to; to keep me grounded and not feel all alone. I needed him now. He was probably eating or in yet another alcove kissing that blonde, what's her name, Laoghaire. Why did that name make my blood boil?

Damn. I walked right into the back of Auld Alec. He had stopped and was petting a pretty, shaggy little pony's face. Oh, good, another one of his "stupid woman" looks to go along with it. Damn you Mister MacTavish. Where the hell are you when I actually need you to rescue me? Alec gave the pony a piece of apple. It took about two-seconds of chewing and it butted his arm with its nose for more. He gave me a piece of apple to give it. "Brimstone" Oh that's what he was saying — the pony's name.

"Brimstone" I repeated and smiled, extremely proud of myself. Alec just said something unintelligible and shook his head. I had the piece of apple in my fingers and was moving forward to feed it to the pony when Alec grabbed my wrist. He took the apple from me. He slapped my hand open making my palm lie flat. He then placed the piece of apple in my palm. Still holding my wrist, he put my flat hand under the pony's nose. I laughed as its whiskers brushed my hand and its tongue licked my palm and "poof" the apple was gone and Brimstone was happily chewing. I rubbed the white streak that ran down the front of the pony's face with my hand. I was pretty good at this. Brimstone and I would get along fine. I would have no problems on this pony. I smiled to myself.

I turned and gave Auld Alec my very best smile. And giggled. I was very pleased with myself. Alec shook his head, said something in more gobbledy gook and started to leave.

"Is Brimstone a boy or a girl horse?" I asked. Not that I guessed it mattered one way or the other. I bent sideways and looked up under the horse to see if I could tell. I figured if it was a boy horse, I would be able to tell; boys always have a little something hanging… "Ya ken? Ha Ha, something hanging…" I said out loud to Brimstone. "We girls have to stick together." Where was Jamie? He would have at least smiled. This was some pretty funny stuff and Alec was having no part of it. He turned to me and said "Brimstone" was a Lass, but my quick peak had already told me that, and he added that he would leave us to become better acquainted. Poof, he was gone.

As I stood there petting Brimstone, I made note that her stall was the 5th from the front on the right. Suddenly a thought occurred to me and I gasped "Shit" out loud. I realized that I would not be able to ride out of here tonight or any other night for that matter. Unless they put the horses to bed in their saddles and bridles, I was in trouble. I did not have a clue as to how to put that stuff on a horse and make it stay. I might possibly be able to ride without a saddle, providing I could get on the horse, but how would I tell the pony where to go and when to stop? It took a bridle to do that. I had no idea how to put one on, let alone where they all were. Were all horses heads the same size? Or were the bloody things like bras? Did they come in sizes? Damn, that was something I had totally not thought about; this was a huge glitch in my plan.

I walked back up to Alec. He was absolutely not pleased to see me in front of him, yet again. "I don't suppose you could put Brimstone's saddle and bridle on tonight?"

"And just why would you be needing me to do that?" Auld Alec asked.

"Well, I was just thinking it might be easier for you. I will have to be ready to leave really early tomorrow morning," I hesitatingly offered as an excuse.

"Don't you worry Mistress," Alex said shaking his head. "Brimstone will be ready for you tomorrow morning."

Strike horse off list. There was no way I could ride one without a bridle and saddle and no way to get one on Brimstone, at night in the dark even if I could find the right one and put on. Looks like I was walking out of here.

Where was Jamie I thought for the third time? Though I seriously doubted my ability to talk him into leaving Brimstone "ready to ride" all night in her stall. I had not seen him in a couple of days now that I thought about it. I really had wanted to at least have a chance to talk to him before I left. I wondered if he would notice I was gone; if he would even miss me. I was beginning to realize I would miss him. Probably for the best I leave now rather than later; I was growing a little too fond of him. He had Laoghaire on the brain anyway. I thought a really bad word, turned on my heals and walked away. Kicking hay from the floor as I went.

Had I turned around I would have seen Jamie's head pop up in Donas' stall, the one just past Brimstone's, and he smiled as he watched me stomp out of the barn.

Tonight was the night then; it had to be. There would be way too many people milling around to notice I was not there. I had a small bag of food; I had been pinching bread, cheese and apples from the kitchen all week. I had one of those leather pouches filled with water and I still had Jamie's plaid to use as a shawl and a blanket. They would all be pretty drunk at the oath taking and then the hunt was tomorrow so they would think I was just somewhere in the woods. I was hoping no one would really notice I was gone until tomorrow around dinner time. If by then they noticed I was missing, they would not look for me until at least the following morning. That would give me 2 full days and nights to start to make my way to Inverness. This just might work, even if I was going to be on foot.

I was walking through the kitchen and had managed to pocket one of Mistress FitzGibbons short knives. I needed some sort of weapon to take with me. Damn. Ms. Fitz caught me. She cleaned me up and dragged me to the Hall to watch the main event. Murtagh was there explaining everything to me. He translated the oath for me and explained its importance to the clan, the men and it's Laird. You really have to be made totally of testosterone to get the whole oath taking thing I decided. It was the same pledge over and over and over again. And as with any good Scottish event, there was a ton of alcohol involved. So everyone was pretty pissed; they were smiling and laughing and dancing. Murtagh was very was kind to me. Kept the conversation going for quite awhile, telling me jokes or bits of gossip about some of the people milling about. Murtagh was kind of growing on me. I would definitely miss Jamie and Ms. Fitz. I might miss Murtagh a bit as well.

I finally escaped. I scampered back down to my cave and closed the door. I did not waste time changing my clothes, just put on my gardening shoes instead of the soft leather ones I had on. I put my cape on, gathered my food bag and water and made for the door.

Oh damn. Laoghaire. Jamie's bonnie lassie. Another bad word pops into my head. A love potion for Jamie. Right. Horse dung in a bottle, take that Jamie MacTavish. Click heals. No place like love. Good. She's gone. Got my stuff again and slipped down the hall.

Damn turned the corner and ran right into 3 really drunk guys. They are all pulling on me. Fighting over which one was going to have the pleasure of raping me first. Enter Dougal. Rescues me. He's drunk and decides he should be given a freebee for being my knight in shining armor. He gets fresh and I slap him. He notices I am dressed for the outdoors and even drunk starts to put two and two together so I hit him over the head with a stool. Knock him out cold. Score one for the Sassenach.

I grabbed my bag and now I am running. I am out into the courtyard. Watch the guard, then run for the gate. Hide in the arch. I run and hide, hide and run and run and hide again. I reach the clan's camp area. I can walk right through it. I don't meet anyone. I come to the wooded area I have marked out. Find the trail I had decided to take and as quietly and quickly as I can I start down it. It should lead me to the road out of here, the same one I rode in on with Jamie and the rest of the lovely gang of kilt wearing, oath swearing Scots. I should be ok to walk on the road at night. I would just find some brush and sleep during the day. I thought I had the general idea for direction and figured I could hopefully ask for help along the way. Maybe a cotter or a tinker with a wagon would give me a lift. Did they have gypsies? I had no money; that was going to be a problem at some point.

I was so busy being pleased with myself for having gotten away, that I did not hear the horse come up behind me until it was too late. I ran for the trees along the path but he had seen me and it did not take him long to catch me even in the dark. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. I am back on a horse headed back to Castle Leoch. Once we enter the courtyard there are Rupert and Angus waiting. What are the odds that I would get both? They are not happy at all. Oh this was not going to be good. I knew they would take me to Colum. From the frying pan into the fire.

Right. Angus fetches Dougal. And is he ANGRY! He reaches up and drags me off the horse. He is beyond MAD. I start to say "Dougal, I can…" when he back hands me across the face so hard I fall back into the horse he just took me off of.

"Shut up Bitch," he says. He tells Rupert to take me back to my surgery and stay with me until he comes. He talks to the guy that caught me. "Geordie" I think he said. I don't hear any more. Rupert and I are back inside the castle.

Moments later Rupert has dragged me back to my little cave and shoves me onto the bed. I fall back and my skirts fly up and I see Rupert looking at me with that lustful look drunks get. I quickly pull my skirts down and ask "How long before Dougal gets here? I guess I did a pretty stupid thing. How mad do you think he is at me?"

Rupert just snorts but he does not look at me anymore. He won't risk raping me and having Dougal walk in. Thank God. I'll bet I had not even been gone an hour. Damn, I was beginning to think this whole clever idea of sneaking off was one really bad, poorly thought out plan. I did not think Colum, nor Dougal, was going to be calling me "Guest" by the end of the night. What had I gone and done? I got a clean cloth dipped in some water and held it on the side of my face. I checked it; yep I was bleeding from the corner of my lip and my eyebrow. Great.

Finally Dougal comes, with Angus. There is nothing but pure hatred in Dougal's eyes when he looks at me. The look actually terrifies me. Beauchamp, you've really gone and done it now, I think to myself. Then I remember Colum. Dougal won't do anything without Colum's approval. Colum will be too drunk to deal with me tonight. I figure I am safe until tomorrow morning; at that point Dougal will take me to see Colum. Dougal, as mad as he is cannot take me to Colum beaten. Colum would be seriously angry with Dougal. Colum is, after all, the Laird, not Dougal.

Dougal walks right up to me and says calmly, "Where were you going Mistress Beauchamp alone and at such a late hour? With food."

"Inverness" I stated matter of factly. I saw no point in lying to him. It would not do me any good to try. I looked him straight in the eye and said, "I want to go home. Now please. I have been a guest here long enough."

"That is true. You have been a guest of Clan MacKenzie long enough. I want to know if you are a spy for the English or the French?" Dougal sneered. "You will tell me before you leave this room."

"I want to speak to Colum," I sneer back. Returning his nasty snarl. Back at you Dougal, I think.

"He's a bit busy right now. I am in charge of you; I am responsible for bringing you here to Castle Leoch. I will deal with your escape attempt." he said.

Slowly like a morning's dawn a look of immense evil envelopes his face. So intense, it almost made him appear calm. It was showing plainly; there was no attempt on Dougals part to mask it. It was clearly directed at me. It made me shuttered with fear.

"Which is it, the English or the French?" Dougal repeated with icy calm. The calm before the storm I was soon to realize.

"I. AM. NOT. A. SPY!" I shouted at him putting my face right up to his. I did not even see his hand strike me this time. I just felt the pain on same side of my face as I flew across the room and hit my head against the wall by the steps. I tried to get to my knees and crawl up the stairs to the door. Dougal clearly understood my intentions and motioned to Rupert; I think I barely made the first stair before Rupert had caught me and dragged me to my feet. Dougal crossed the space between us in two easy steps. This time he punched me in the stomach. I doubled over and started to fall to my knees. Rupert still had hold of one of my arms and kept me from falling to the ground. I could not breathe. No air could get in; he had punched all the air out of my diaphram. I tried to calm myself. To relax through the pain. To allow the much needed air into my lungs. Dougal grabbed me by my arm and dragged me to the stool by the fire. He forced me to sit, leaving his hand on my shoulder with his full weight on it. I was not going anywhere, even if I could get my breath back.

Dougal turned to Angus and Rupert and told them to stand outside in the hall. To close the door behind them and not let ANYONE in.

I really did not like the sound of that. Not one little bit. I did not even try a pleading look to Rupert. No way would he go against Dougal. I had even less of a chance with Angus. Rupert and Angus turned, walked away and never looked back. I heard the door open and then close.

"English or French," Dougal hissed. "I will'na ask again. I swear I will beat the answer out of you."

Fuck what had he been doing, playing with me? Like a cat with a mouse. "Dougal, I am not…" and he hit me on the other side of the face and I heard bone break. Not good. I don't remember hitting the ground. I became aware of being dragged by my hair. Dougal hauled me to my feet and threw me on the bed. I felt my scalp tear. I am quite sure Dougal had a handful of my hair in his fist. My skirts flew up past my knees, exposing the tops of my leggings. Well, at least from the look Dougal was wearing he was no longer thinking about breaking any more bones in my face. I could not see or think straight. Everything was fuzzy. I had three Dougals licking their lips at me. I must have a concussion after three head punches. I did not have the ability to move any part of my body. Dougal lifted my skirts to my waist. I could not even lift my leg to try and kick him. He knew I was incapacitated. He smiled the most evil smile I have ever seen, lifting his kilt as he came towards me. I am not sure which of the three Dougals I saw raped me; it might have been all three. All I know is about four thrusts in, I passed out.

Rupert slipped out the door Dougal held open and into the darkness of the predawn. Angus was holding both horses for him in the courtyard. He threw the bundle he had been carrying over his shoulder onto the second horse. He took the rope and tied it around one end of the bundle then ran the rope under Brimstone's belly and tied the other end of the rope around the other end of the bundle. "Good and tight" Dougal said. "You don't want that bundle coming loose before you get where you are going."

"Aye" was all Rupert could say in response. He did not like this. Not one bit. The Lass had never done anything to deserve this. He had actually kind of liked her. He had thought her to be verra pretty and a wee witty. He had even thought to try and bed her. Not now he wouldn't. He had at least found a bit of plaid with her bag and thought to wrap her in it.

"Well, best get going before it's light and the Castle starts to stir. Don't want to bring any unnecessary attention to what we're doing," Dougal said standing there in his "laird" stance with his arms folded across his chest. "Get back as quick as you can. I don't want anyone to notice you're gone if it can be helped." Angus had not liked Mistress Beauchamp and had been vocal about his displeasure at Dougal's orders of having to follow her around. Clearly Rupert now understood Dougal's feelings towards her as well. Poor Jamie; he knew the lad had his heart set on winning her. He was young. He would forget her. There was Laoghaire to help with that. He shook his head clear. He best be going.

Rupert mounted his horse. Angus handed him the lead to Brimstone and he turned Peggy toward the gate and slipped away in the heavy fog of the coming dawn.


	2. Chapter 2 - Banishment

**Chapter 2 Leaving Castle Leoch - Banishment**

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own _Outlander_ \- All Characters and rights belong to their respective creator Diana Gabaldon. I just tweaked them.

Murtagh came into the pub looking for Jamie. Donas was tied up outside so he had to be in here somewhere. Good, he did not want to go back to Beannachd and risk running into Dougal. There, over in the corner play'n cards. Winning he was sure. Jamie rarely lost. Good, they'd need the coin for when they left here. Hopefully they would'na be going back to Castle Leoch either. He'd had enough of Clan Mackenzie for a while; he was fairly sure that was true of Jamie as well. He sat down at a table, had the barmaid get him an ale, and waited for Jamie to quit the game.

He had some news about Claire. Maybe. Jamie would want to hear it he was sure. Three months had passed since she had left Leoch without a trace. Jamie had never given up hope of finding the lass; he had made it his mission, dedicated every waking moment to finding her. He tracked any word or hint of her; all for nothing. The lad just could'na believe she left without telling him goodbye. Well, no, not exactly that. Jamie could'na believe she had managed to leave Castle Leoch unnoticed; just strolled out of the Castle and into the night. The guards had been doubled around the Castle during the Gathering. She had somehow managed to just slip passed them all. What hit Jamie so hard was that she had gone without even so much as a goodbye to him. He had taken it personally. Jamie had fallen for the lass. Hard. Just about broke him when he heard she was gone.

Colum's search parties had not found any sign of her and that was what concerned the lad the most. While they traveled, collecting rents for Colum, Jamie inquired after Claire at every croft, village and tavern. Giving a physical description of her as well as asking about any healers. Where could she have gone? They had thought she had left on Brimstone. The horse was missing the next day but then Rupert came back with the filly two days later. So she had left the castle on foot. How far could the woman have walked with a two days start? Men on horseback should have caught up with her easily. Murtagh did not like to think what Colum might have done to her had they actually found her and brought her back to Leoch. Maybe it was a good thing they had not found her.

The only thing keeping Jamie's heart from breaking was the thought that Claire might not have left without talking to him first because she might not have left of her own free will; someone could possibly have taken her. He was beating himself up over having not protected her better. The lad would not rest until she was found. It had been the Gathering, after all, when she went missing. There were men from all over MacKenzie land there. Someone could have easily taken her and no one would have ever been the wiser.

That was what Jamie's mother and father had done. Right under the noses of 300 clansmen, they had snuck off and hold up in some cotter's cottage until Ellen was with child. Colum had to sanction the marriage then even though he had arranged for Ellen to wed a Grant in an effort to strengthen clan bonds. Fraser had even gotten a bonnie piece of land from Lovat to build Lallybroch on for it. Jamie's now. Though it was'na much good to him with the price on his head. Sandringham had the paper Ned Gowan drew up. Hopefully that would lead to a pardon for Jamie. He had to be Sandringham's second in a duel with clan Campbell in order for Sandringham to take it. A stramash with the Campbell's after the duel earned Jamie a sword wound in his side and his Uncle Colum's disfavor and wrath. The punishment was this banishment with Dougal until Colum decided to forgive him. Maybe Jamie could go home when all the dust settled. Maybe he'd forget about the lass there. Jenny would set him straight; she would not let him pine for Claire for long.

In three months not a word or sighting until the information Murtagh had just heard from the whore whose company he just left. It sounded right. The pieces seemed to fit. He finished his time with the lass and then came straight away to tell Jamie. He did not like how he was thinking Claire might have ended up here. He shook his head clear the thought. Don'na think too hard about the how or the who. First find out if it really is the lass.

Jamie was ask'n them about see'n a brown haired English lass. A healer. What was the man saying? Murtagh was too far away to hear. Jamie would tell him if it was worth hear'n. When the man finished what he was say'n, Jamie put his cards down. The other four men all moaned and threw their cards on the table in disgust. Jamie smiled. He reached and gathered his winning, placing it in his money pouch and putting that in his sporran. He called the barmaid over and ordered a round of whiskey for the men and handed her money. He got up, nodded to them and walked over to me. He reached over, grabbed my glass and took a long swallow of my beer. "Go get your own," I told him. He smiled, took another swallow, which drained the glass and said, "let's get out of here. I know another place to have a drink and maybe a little something else."

I raised my eyebrow at him, placed my money on the table and we both left.

We mounted and headed down the road. Jamie set a pretty good pace; wherever we were going, he was in a hurry to get there. I asked "what kind of something else?"

"The men I was playing cards with have been to a cottage beside the sea. Small place a short ride from here. They were telling me about a bonnie English wench with wild brown hair that worked there. A healer. One of the men showed me what she had done for him. He said he had been putting firewood on a fire and a long splinter had gone into his hand and he could'na get it out. It had festered. Hand all red and swollen. Wound weeping. Hurt like the devil he said and could not hold anything with it, the hand hurt so badly. "the bar wench fixed it the Murtagh. It was Claire. I ken it," Jamie said. "I ken by how clean the wound is and the stitches, all neat and tidy. The man said she poured good whiskey on it before she stitched it and then again after. He said she told him to make sure to keep it clean. It was just two days ago. Two days. Less than an hours ride, from here. It's Claire. I feel it in my bones. I've found her. I no ken why she left Leoch, but if she did her family is in France, she'd have gone there. She said she wanted to be taken back to Inverness. Why would she be here? Working at a bar, by the sea, in the middle of nowhere. How would she have gotten here, Murtagh? All this way. On foot."

Mutagh slowed his horse and then stopped. Best to tell the Lad what he had heard. Here. Now. Before they got to the cottage. It was sounding more and more like Claire. Jamie might have actually found her. What Jamie thought he was going to do if it really was her, he did not ken. What kind of shape would she be in when they found her? Three months is a long time to be friendless. And still the question of what then? What did Jamie think he was going to do once he found her? The lad had a price on his own head. He could not be traipsing around the countryside with the lass in tow. Tall, red headed Scot traveling with an English Lady; that would really call attention to himself.

Murtagh also had a pretty good idea of how she got here. It all made sense now. He remembered Auld Alec saying that two horses were missing the morning of the hunt. Rupert's Peggy and little Brimstone, the very horse Claire was supposed to use during the hunt. Rupert had been nowhere to be seen for two days either after she went missing. When he finally showed up, with the missing horses, they had all looked like they had ridden to hell and back. He offered no reason for his absence. Just that Dougal had him run some errand. Two horses for an errand? Rupert was not the kind of man to act on his own.

No, it had to be Dougal behind it for sure. And his wee henchmen Rupert and Angus had to be involved. He ken Dougal had eyes for Claire. Murtagh never told Jamie that. That would have led to a fight. Jamie would probably win; he was younger, stronger and much smarter than his Uncle. But killing or injuring Dougal would cost him the protection of Colum and Castle Leoch. Jamie still had that price on his head. He was wanted by the English and he could not risk losing the safety that The MacKenzie offered. There was no pardon in Jamie's hand yet.

Jamie pulled up a short distance ahead when he realized Murtagh had stopped. He turned Donas around and rode back. "What is it Murtagh? Why have you stopped? Has your horse thrown a shoe?"

"No Jamie," Murtagh said looking straight ahead instead of at Jamie. "I heard something today about a curly, brown haired lass as well. It might be the same lassie you heard about. I was think'n it might be Claire also that's why I came straight away to find you. I was told the same place, a cottage by the sea. But I heard a different story. No one mentioned a barmaid or a healer. I heard a whore. The lady who did the tell'n heard it from a client that said the lass was English not Scot, she was damn pretty with pale white skin and worth every penny." Murtagh turned his head and looked at Jamie.

Jamie's eyes were wide in shock. "A whore?" Jamie tried the words out in his mouth. "No, Murtagh. Claire would never… Claire could never…" Even the night you found her…everyone thought that's what she was. You ken she was'na. Even dressed the way she was. You ken it was'na true. Something's wrong Murtagh. I need to get to her." He turned Donas and let the horse have his head and they flew down the road. Murtagh rolled his eyes up to the heavens and spurred his horse into a gallop, knowing that they would never catch Jamie riding Donas.

When Murtagh reined his horse to a halt next to Donas, Jamie was out front of the cottage having a verra loud discussion with a gentleman who was sitting on a bench by the door. There was an older gentleman there trying to keep things from coming to blows. The gentleman stood up and stated, "You will have to wait your turn, sir. She is with a gentleman now. I am next. You will just have to wait to **speak** with her until I have had my time. I have already paid. I hear she is worth the wait, if it is any consolation to you. Very pretty and quite dedicated to her work, shall we say." The gentleman smile, winked and gave Jamie an elbow to the arm.

I saw Jamie's shoulders go stiff. I jumped down off my horse and made to get in between Jamie and the man Jamie was going to punch. I silently hoped this was'na Claire. Poor Jamie.

Jamie tried to go around him and get through the door, to enter the cottage. The gentleman turned and placed his hand on Jamie's arm. Not a smart thing for him to have done. The gentleman called the whore by name. He called her Sorcha; Gaelic for Claire. Jamie jerked his arm out of the gentleman's grasp and walked into the house, having to duck through the doorway to get in.

"Where is she? Where is this Sorcha?" He asked the old woman who was sitting in a chair by the fire. She looked up startled. Not every day a lad walks into her house Jamie's size I guess. Murtagh blocked the gentleman from entering, stating, "He thinks he knows the lass, ya ken. A friend maybe. Just give him a minute. If it is not the lass he is looking for, we'll be on our way. No problem."

The old woman pointed to a closed door. Jamie walked to the door and knocked. "Claire?" He spoke in a half whisper. "Claire, it's me Jamie. Jamie MacTavish. From Castle Leoch. May I come in?" Nothing. No answer. Jamie tried the door and it moved. He slowly opened the door. The room was small and poorly furnished. One small window, open to let in a sea breeze. Not much of a bed and there was a stool in the corner. There is a pile of woman clothing on the floor by the bed. Dirty, torn rags. They look like a dress Claire had worn once. The night she had come to the hall to listen to Gwyllyn sing, She was drunk off Colum's Rhenish and Jamie had escorted her back to her surgery. Not wanting any harm to come to her. He closed his eyes and choked on the thought. There was a plaid on the corner of the bed. He picked it up and raised it to his nose, breathing in. He could smell Claire on it; It was her, her and her smell of wee herbs, earth and lilac. He sighed. She had been here, recently. Looking at the plaid more closely, he realized it was the one he had given her that first day at Leoch. After she had tended his wounds. He had seen her wear it, often. He had never asked for it back; it had made him happy to see her wear it. He imagined it was like he was with her, his arms around her like a cocoon, protecting her from any harm. He closed his eye and hoped he had not failed her now.

There were other smells here in this room as well. Smells of men; of spunk and sweat. Jamie willed his thoughts not to go there. Not now. Focus on finding Claire first. She can'na be far. She can explain all this. Not that it was really any of his business Claire would tell him…but it was his business. He loved her. Now and always. No matter what. And Claire would love him back. She just had to. Maybe not right now, but he could, no would, win her heart. Marry her. Make her his. His Lady. There was another door on the far wall of the room. He opened the door and saw a curly nest of brown hair disappearing down an embankment leading to the sea.

He failed to see the rider on a white horse galloping away across the field, to the road and back the way they had just come.

"Claire. Claire. **Claire**!" Jamie called and ran down the path.


	3. Chapter 3 - Finding Claire

Claire had made it to the embankment. The rapist had made no attempt to stop her when she left out the back door. He had not even noticed that she'd slipped away. There had been noise coming from the front room. Loud noises. Voices. Men arguing. Sounded like pushing and shoving also. He had stopped in the middle of raping her, pulled out and gone to the door to listen. Even cracked the door and peeked out. When he turned his back on her, she had quietly opened the back door and run She ran as fast as she could down the path to the beach. Damn, she should have untied his horse and scared it away so he'd have to face whoever was in the front room. He clearly recognized whoever was making the noise and did not want them to discover him.

He had not re-shackled her when he had turned away, that's why she could run. The irons were only locked to one leg. He could not do a proper job of swiveling her if her legs were shackled together he had snarled once. He needed her legs spread wide to "do a proper job" so he always unfettered one leg. The further he got his cock into her the faster he would have her with bairn he'd said. What a sweet talker he was.

Rupert had stayed with her until the rapist had arrived. She had not seen Rupert since. The rapist had been smart enough to take her to the blacksmith the first day he arrived to have the leg irons placed. He took her shoes when he left as well, "for good measure" he had said and laughed. Bastard. Without the irons she would have been long gone by now. Even barefoot. She had tried to run away once when she first got here; but Rupert, the fat shit had caught her quickly and dragged her back. He bound her hand and foot until the rapist arrived. She was sure her wrists and ankles were permanently scarred, Rupert had bound her so tightly. She reminded herself that she had thought she could just walk away from Castle Leoch. Look where that had landed her. She was afraid she'd never get away. She had her chance now. She would make the most of it; she would make it count.

She stopped long enough to pick up the end of the chain that was dragging behind her in the sand. It made it much easier to move her leg and now and she could run faster. Distance. She needed to get at least to the embankment before he noticed she was gone for her to have a chance. Whoever was on the other side of that door, the rapist was not pleased that they had found him. Almost like the bastard was afraid. Who could that be? It didn't really matter. With any luck she'd make it to the water and drown herself in the sea before he could catch her. That was the best and only plan. Death was more agreeable than being beaten and raped on a regular basis. If she ran and the rapist caught her again…she shuttered at the thought. She'd make it. She did not even slow down as she started down the embankment path that led to the sea. To peace.

She heard him calling her name now. Yelling at her. Telling her to stop. "Claire. Claire". That was the name only the rapist was allowed to call her. Everyone else had been told to call her Sorcha. Why, she had not a clue. She was sure Sorcha was some horrid Gaelic word for Slut or something. "Claire Stop." Well, she wouldn't. She'd make it to the water before he could catch her and that would be that. She looked forward not back and jumped the first wave and ran into the welcoming sea.

The rapist was a real Fucking Bastard this visit. She aways fought him; scratching, biting, kicking. She refused to be taken without a fight. She'd broken nails and possibly fractured a rib today while she fought him trying to keep him off her. Trying to keep him out of her. He had placed the pillow over her face again this visit. It was his new method of choice when he tired of her struggling and he needed to make her stop, make her more compliant. She would be unable to breath, to the point of almost passing out. When she stopped struggling, he'd remove the pillow and rape her. Sometimes he'd choke her, but then he'd have to watch her face as the life drained from her. He did not like that, she could see that in his face. He'd be angry enough to hurt her but he clearly did not want her to die. Guess he'd miss his new favorite toy, she thought. He had hit her twice in the face today as well; she would she would take her dress off when he told her to. He usually did not care if she kept her clothes on. Today he wanted to rape her naked. For some reason today it mattered to him. She thought perhaps he has broken her jaw this time. She'd stopped screaming because it hurt too much to move her mouth. It would no longer matter if she couldn't talk for weeks while it healed. Hopefully she'd be dead in less time than it would take her face to swell from the blows.

Once she had landed two good kicks to his groin and he had to go away unsatisfied because he couldn't get it up to rape her. He had beaten her pretty thoroughly in return. Broke her nose and two fingers. Worth it. That's when he had started the cutting. When he was finished raping her he'd take his small knife and mark her body. She was covered with cuts in various stages of healing. He had always left her with numerous new bruises and bites anyway. "Marking what was his," he said. Neanderthal.

She made it to the water. She did not stop, just ran right in. The waves were knocking her back but she was making forward progress. She could do this. End this nightmare. It would all stop. Here. Now. She dropped the chain. She needed both hands to help move her forward in the water; against the waves. She was in up to her calves. In passed her knees now. The water was up to her thighs… She kept moving forward. Deeper and deeper. Her eyes focused on the horizon. Keep moving forward she told herself. Don't listen to the voices. Even if they get closer. Stay focused on the water she told herself. Look to the horizon.

Jamie ran down the path to the embankment's edge. When he looks down to the sea Claire is up to her chest in water. "Claire" Jamie shouts at the top of his lungs. He kens she must hear him. Why has she not stop? Why is she still trying to run further into the sea? He removes his sporran, dirk and sword belts as he runs down the embankment. At the end of path, Jamie drops the plaid and throws his weapons on top of it and enters the water running. "Sassenach, please stop. Please," he shouts again. The water is past her shoulders and the waves are knocking her around so that she starts to swim. When he calls "Sassenach" she stops, turns and looks up the embankment. He turns and sees Murtagh at the top with the horses. He raises his hand to signal Murtagh to stay there. He is in water up to his waist, struggling to keep his balance while the waves slap him around when Claire turns and looks at him. The look stops him in his tracks. Her eyes are blank. No life to them. Totally void. No gleam of recognition in them; she has no idea who he is. None.

"Sassenach, it's me Jamie. Jamie MacTavish," he tries as he starts forward again. There it is, a flicker of something, then it is gone. She turns and continues to struggle into deeper water. She swimming now. Her arms are flailing. Then she is gone; totally under water. He can only see the very top of her head. A hand comes up out of the water as her head disappears under another breaking wave. He dives into the wave and comes back up and gets his footing. Another foot and he'll have to swim to keep his head above water. Where is she? He cannot see her. Is that a hand? He lunges and manages to grab hold of something and pulls it toward him. Her head comes up out of the water, spitting and sputtering. He has her wrist. He holds onto her in a death grip and backs up toward the shore, towing Claire with him. She is struggling to get free; splashing and flailing about. Pulling against him. When he is about chest deep he stops and lets her get her feet under her so she can stand. She does. She claws at his hand with her free one and manages to pull it free. She turns and dives back into deeper water. What is she doing? He leaps and grabs her again. This time it is her leg. He tows her with him as he walks back and stands her up and turns her around to face him. Both hands are gripping her arms. He is not letting go of her this time.

"Sassenach! Sassenach stop! It's me Jamie. Don't you recognize me?" with desperation in his voice.

The man has a grip on both her arms. She twists one and frees it from his grasp. She wipes the water from her face with the hand she has freed. She then pushes her hair out of her face and looks up to face him.

That's when Jamie realizes Claire is naked. And wet. And completely naked. Not even wearing a shift. Oh Lord, he can see her breasts. Her nipples. He averts his eyes. Trying only to look at her face. When the wave recedes…oh, Lord, is that her honeypot? Oh how he wants to continue to look down. No, No he is a Laird; a gentleman….This is Claire, his Claire, after all he reminds himself. He can feel his face going red.

Her plan has been thwarted. The man has caught her and dragged her out of her peaceful death. At least it is not the rapist. She breaks free and tries to go back but he easily catches her again. What now? She will not go back to the rapist. Oh, the man is looking at her with lust…She looks down and remembers she is naked. He is staring. He likes what he sees. She wipes her wet hair from her eyes and looks up. It is Jamie. Jamie MacTavish. She has always liked Jamie. He has always been kind to her. They have been friends. He was not too hard on the eyes either. Maybe Jamie…He would be better; at least nicer to her than the rapist. Maybe if he wanted her he would fight for her…maybe it would not be so bad with him…

A small light lit in Claire's eyes and she walks forward closing the yard or so distance between them. She then removes his hand from her arm and places it on her breast. When he does not take his hand from her breast she smiled at him. She steps forward. She has closed the three foot gap down to a foot while Jamie is still trying to process that he has his hand on Claire's breast and he can clearly see her nipple. If he just moves his thumb an inch he can touch it. And there is her other nipple, right there. He lifts his other hand up and is poised to place it on her other breast. Claire doesn't seem to mind. Really, she has placed his hand on the first one, hadn't she? That's when he realizes what is happening and he jerks his hands away like he has just grabbed a hot poker. He backs up two steps. Claire's hand dropped from his chest. Claire, still smiling, walks forward three steps and places her hand back on his chest. She is right up against him now. They are only in knee deep water. This time when she places his hand on her breast, she made sure his thumb is in contact with her nipple. She moves his thumb and Jamie notes it made her nipple hard, practically begging him to rub it more. OH! His eyes pop wide open and he looks down to see that Claire has her hand up under his kilt and has discovered the cockstand he is currently in possession of. And now it is in her possession. Oh God! He leans back and closes his eyes. He does not have a clue what she is doing but it feels so good. He moans as she slides her hand and thumb…that is her thumb?

He jumps back. Looking Claire straight in the eye loudly exclaims "Stop Sassenach." She gives him a mischievous look, licks her lips and walks forward. "Aye, clearly I want ya," he declares as he backs up out of the water with his hands straight out in front of him to prevent her from coming closer. "But no. No lass. Not like this. Not here. Not now."

She reaches for his cock again and he feels her fingers brush it when she grabs but his kilt is between them and the warrior in him has read her movement before she makes it. He leaps out of harms way.

"No. No Sassenach. Stop. Murtagh is watching, Sassenach. Stop!" he shouts and bats her hand away.

Jamie turns to look up at Murtagh and says, "I could use a little help down here. She's got eight arms….AHHH" Claire's hand has found its mark again.

Murtagh just sits back in the saddle, smiles and shakes his head.

He manages to get both Claire's hands physically off him and bends down, picks up the plaid and hands it to her. "Please put that around ya, so I can concentrate. Please," he implores her and he gives her his best "I'm not playing, best take me seriously look." He releases her hand and she takes the plaid from him. That's when he notices the chain on her ankle. Shackles. Someone had placed her in irons. Why? He looks at her. She sees that he had seen the chains. The light goes back out of her eyes and she looks down at the ground. "Who has done this to her?" he asks himself.

He sees the chains, he knows. He will give me back to the rapist now. He sees the bite marks and bruises. I am marked. By his uncle. Family. She lowers her head. A tear escapes and rolls down her cheek.

Jamie looks up to Murtagh. "Someone has put her in irons," he says with rage in his voice. "Who the hell would do that to her?" while pointing at her feet. "She's covered with cuts, bites and bruises. Some of them are fresh. Made today," Jamie shouts. "Whoever this bastard is, he has tortured her." Murtagh's face became serious and he re-settles himself in the saddle. He turns and looks toward the cottage. The old man and woman are standing at the back door watching him. He does not think it was them, but they can certainly start their questions there. Murtagh turns back to Jamie and says, "I think we should start at the cottage"

"Aye," is Jamie's response. "I will no leave Claire, ya ken. She's come'n with us."

Murtagh nods in agreement. They will not leave Claire here.

Jamie picks up his sword, dirk and sporran and buckles the belts into place. He holds his hand out to Claire. She looks at the extended hand and then up the embankment path, shakes her head "No" and backs back into the water. Jamie is quicker this time and manages to grab both arms and pulls her to him. "I promised you once you would always be safe as long as I am near," he says looking her straight in the eye. "I am here now. You are safe. I will na leave you Sassenach. You are coming with Murtagh and me. We need to go back to the cottage to get your things and talk to the old man and woman. Then we will leave, ya ken?" Claire tries to wiggle out of his grasp and back away, but Jamie had a good grip on her this time and he cannot see her breasts so he is not distracted. "Please Sassenach. I ken you are scared," he says softly. "I can see you've been hurt. Tortured. Raped," he whispers. "It will be all right. We will be away from here soon. I promise. Come with me Sassenach. I will not let you out of my sight, ever again."

He says he will not leave her. She looks up into his face and sees he speaking the truth. She looks up to Murtagh. He nods. Confirmation. They will take her with them. She grabs hold of Jamie's belt and hangs on for dear life, walking behind him up the path. Jamie stops and speaks to Murtagh. It is agreed that Murtagh will question the old couple, learn what he can. Jamie will take Claire back inside, get her dressed and collect her things. Jamie turns back toward the cottage with Claire in tow, firmly attached to his belt. Murtagh riding, leading Donas.

Donas is famous in Leoch. Anyone stupid enough to walk close enough is going to be bitten by the horse, except for Jamie. Neither Jamie, nor Murtagh were paying attention to him as they made their way back to the cottage. Both deep in thought. Donas was acutely aware of Claire. Claire was busy trying to keep her grip on Jamie's belt and her forehead in contact with his back. When they reached the cottage, Jamie grabbed Donas' reins as Murtagh dismounted and started to question the couple. Donas stretched his neck so that his nose touched Claire's shoulder. He snorted. Claire rolled her head so that she could look into Donas' face. The horse raised its head so that its lips rested on Claire's forehead and snorted again and took some of Claire's hair in it's lips. Donas released her hair and gently nudged her shoulder again. Claire changed her grip. She grabbed Jamie's belt with her right hand, adjusted the plaid on her shoulders and then raised her left hand and gently rubbed Donas' nose with her knuckles. Her head never leaving contact with Jamie's back. Donas seemed to understand. They had reached an understanding; he would never bite Claire again. He would protect her as well.

Jamie turns his head and realizes that Donas is allowing Claire to pet him. He is not trying to bite her like the horse had always before when Claire had come to the stables. What is that all about, he wonders?

He hands the reins to Murtagh, and with Claire in tow, they enter the cottage through the back door and back into the small bedroom. The smell of men and spunk is nauseating to him now. Now that he kens for sure it has been his Claire. "Claire," Jamie started. "We need to get your things. Where are your clothes?" He asks. "You need to put them on."

There is no answer.

"Claire," Jamie says, trying to keep his voice calm. "You are going to have to talk to me or let go of me and show me. I will be right here. I will hold your hand if you need me to. I will not leave you. I promise." Claire just buries her forehead deeper into his back and shakes her head "No".

"Where do you sleep?' he asks?

Claire butts me in the back and we pass through the bedroom door back into the only other room in the cottage. I stop and take the time to survey the room now. This is where Claire has been for the last 3 months. I want to see it; to understand what she had been through. How she has lived and been taken care of, or rather been abused. I am angry with what I see. The bedroom is half the cottage space. I can stand in the center of that room and almost touch any of the four walls. Whoever these people are, they do not have much. A table, two stools and a fireplace, that's all. Not a rug, just a dirt floor. Four steps from the bedroom door and I'd be at the fireplace. There is no privacy.

I make a guess that the old couple sleeps in the back room with the bed. They have clearly allowed Claire to beaten and raped in their room, on their bed, on a regular basis. There was no way they could not hear what was going on in there. I noticed the bruises, old and new, on Claire's face down on the beach. One eye is puffy and a large bruise is starting to show on her jaw below her ear. Those are new; today I would guess. There are cuts, bite marks and bruises all over her body. I could see them on her thin frame while down on the beach. The couple has to have ken the torture. I stiffen with anger. My hand at my side clenches into a fist. I want to hit something verra badly, or rather someone. Claire feels my anger, places her free arm around me and step into my back so that most of our bodies are touching. I relax my fist and take her hand in mine. I raise it to my lips, place a light kiss on the palm and place it over my heart, placing my hand over hers. I will protect her. I hear her sigh and she relaxes, though only slightly. I need to get her away from here.

Claire butts me in the shoulder and I raise my arm so she can walk around and stand in front of me. This allows her to slide her hand along my belt without letting go. When she gets to my side, her hand grazed the sword wound and I let out a "hiss" as I take in a breath. She stops and looks up at me with her brows knitted. I just shake my head. "Not now, later," I say to her. Claire nods and drags me over to the fireplace. To the side there is a small pile of hay and a ratty horse blanket on top of it. Still holding onto my belt for dear life, she bends down.

When I stand I have my healer's box from Castle Leoch. I had taken it with me when I left the Castle that night. Somehow it was here with me; Rupert most likely had thought to bring it. I turn and face Jamie. He nods toward the ratty blanket and asks, "Is that where you slept?" My breath hitches. "Slept" I repeated to myself. Past tense. Not sleep. Slept. Jamie is telling me that he will take me with him; I'm leaving here. It is not a trick. I will never sleep here again. I nod "yes," sigh and gave Jamie a look of "Thank you." He mutters "Not fit for a dog," and raises his hand to wipe away the tear that is rolling down my cheek. He rests his hand on my swollen jaw, so swollen now I can barely open my mouth, and his thumb gently brushes the eye the rapist had hit earlier. I am sure it is swollen as well. I hope it does not swell shut like the last time. A look of such sorrow is in his eyes. I can do nothing but look down at the ground. I am embarrassed and so very grateful he has found me.

I turn and drag him back to the bedroom and place my box down on the bed. I start to undo the belt at Jamie's waist; my lifeline to him. He throws up his hands, looks at me with surprise and emphatically says, "NO Claire." He takes a step back. He moves away from me. I had managed to unbuckle the belt and take it off before he moves. I am no longer attached to him. Fear must show in my eyes for he looks at me with question. A surge of panic rises to my throat. I make an awful groaning noise. I have the belt in my hand. I close my eyes and tell myself he promised. He will not leave you. His hands are on my arms and he shakes me gently. I take a deep breath and open my eyes. "I am right here Sassenach," he says. "We will leave here together. My word of honor." I realize I have his dirk and sporran as well as his belt. I show him what I have and look at him with hurt in my eyes. I pat the bed for him to come sit down. "No Claire. You ken I said No. I don't want you like that. Well, ya ken I do, but No. Not here Sassenach. Not now. I need to get some answers from these people and then we need to leave here."

I fold my arms across my chest and stamp my bare foot hard on the dirt floor. Jamie folds his arms across his chest and takes a deep breath. I point to the wound site, pat my healers box and look him straight in the eye. "Tsst," he hisses. Ok, he knows I only want to see the wound. I point to the floor right in front of me. He walks to me, stands where I had pointed, and I smile at him. I unbutton his waistcoat, untuck and lift his shirt so I can take a look at the damages. I gently run my finger over the wound. It is red and very infected. Then I poke it, puss oozes out. I dab it with a clean bandage I had in my box. I poke it several more times, softly, gently and more puss oozes. "Festered and weeping, great," I say to myself and snort out loud for Jamie.

Oh, she only wants to look at the wound. It would make it much easier if she would just talk to me. "Tsst," I hiss as she pokes the wound, HARD, several times, with her finger. It makes me jerk and stiffen with each poke. She looks up at me, mid poke and raises an eyebrow. "Sword. Long story for another day," I say. She nods and then I heard her speak for the first time. Music to my ears…

"Maggie," I call out to the old woman, placing my hand on my jaw. It hurts when the jaw moves; speaking is painful. "Sea water, bandages and the salve. Whisky. Now." I look back at Jamie. I place my open palm gently on his cheek then bring it to my lips, place a soft kiss on its palm and place the hand over the wound. He closes his eyes, sighs and nods. I pat the bed for him to sit. He sort of half sits, half leans. I completely remove his waistcoat, fold it neatly and place it on the bed. I pull his shirt off, fold it and place it on top of the waistcoat. I push his kilt down off his waist to his hip. I take a deep breath. I had forgotten just how gorgeous this man was. I have to lower my eyes for a moment and I sigh softly. I am sure I am blushing.

While I wait for Maggie, I dress. I remove and fold my plaid, or rather the plaid I had stolen from Jamie all those months ago at Leoch and pick up my shift from the floor where the rapist had thrown it. I put it on. It is dirty and torn but the only one I have. I pick up my skirt and pull it on. It is filthy and too big now because I have lost so much weight. It rides down to my hips. I find the piece of rope, pull the skirt up to my waist and try to tie the rope but the skirt drops. I always have trouble with this part. Then Jamie is there; he takes the rope from my hands, I hold the skirt in place and he ties the rope around my waist. I look into his eye but his look is masked. I cannot read his thoughts. I put on the stays, tie them and then the bodice. One of the sleeves is almost completely torn away now. Past struggles with the rapist. I cannot look Jamie in the eye. I am embarrassed about my appearance. Nothing I can do about it. A tear rolls down my cheek. Until this moment, for three months, I did not care. It hurts to care now.

Maggie brings me the sea water and clean rags. I clean the wound, carefully, trying not to hurt him anymore than I have to. I have to debride it. The wound is a mess. I click my tongue a couple of times.

As Claire works she mutters a couple of words I do not recognize – sutures, puss, fucking bastard, debride and some I had heard but still do not understand – germs, infected and iodine; my healer is singing to me while she works. I watch that beautiful nest of brown curls as she works on my injured side. Watching it bob and tilt; I just want to run my fingers through it. When she pours whisky on the wound, it makes me jump. Seven stitches. Claire mutters something about a lucky number. It is painful but Claire is trying to be as gentle as she can; I ken she does not want to hurt me. She looks up and smiles at me then adds a salve of some sort, smelling of garlic and then she adds layers of bandages. I am trussed up like a stuffed chicken. She is making sure my wound will not get dirty again. Not on her watch, I think to myself and smile.

When she is finished, she hands me back my shirt and then waistcoat. She cleans her hands and her wee stabber, packs her box and then stands ready to go. Clearly she has no intention of being left behind. I have no intension of leaving her. I put my shirt on and tuck it into my kilt, careful not to touch the bandages. I button my waistcoat and I lean down and kiss her on the forehead and whisper, "Thank you Sassenach." I belt the dirk and sporran back on and then put my sword belt on over my shoulder. That pulls the stitches and I whence. Claire looks concerned but I smile. I am all right. I have my healer back. I have my Sassenach.

She is standing by the door, the plaid in her hands. Ready to go. I look at her. The dress is pretty bad. Dirty and torn, one sleeve hanging. Nothing to be done about it now. I walk to the back door. As I pass Claire, her had shots out and grabs hold, once again, to my belt. I shake my head. I open the door, take her box from the bed and step outside. Murtagh is still questioning the old man. I walk to Donas and tie Claire's box to my saddle. Over my shoulder I said, "Claire, I need to set you up on Donas, let go of my belt and come to me please."

She offers her hand for Donas to smell and then gently rubs his nose with her knuckles. She does release her hold on my belt, but keeps her fingers in constant contact with me, stopping on my chest when she stands facing me. I bend down, pick up the loose chain and hand it to her. I put my hands on her waist. The fingers of my two hands almost touched. She is so thin. With very little effort, I placed her on the horse. I set her on Donas side saddle. We needed the blacksmith first. Get these horrible chains off her. Someone will pay for doing this to her. What right does anyone have to do this to her? My hand balls into a fist as I contemplate the thought.

I turn to Murtagh. "Do they have the key?" I ask

Murtagh shakes his head, "No, but there is a Smithy just back the road a ways. You and Donas flew passed it get'n here."

I nod and mount Donas behind Claire. She leans into me and I put my arms around her and pick up the reins.

Jamie turns to face the couple. "How long has she been in your care?" he asked not trying to hide the disgust in his voice.

Murtagh answers for them. "Three months, Jamie. She's been here the whole time."

Jamie goes ridged. "Who brought her here to you?" Jamie demands.

The old man stepped forward. The woman would only look at the ground. "You can see we don't have much. We did the best we could. Sorcha made a little money once word got around about her healing and so we could eat a little better."

"That does not answer my question, sir." Jamie responds as calmly as he can. "I repeat. Who brought her here, left her in your keep?"

"The MacKenzie ordered it," the old man states, looking down at the ground. "He's the one whats got the key. He always takes it too. He's the only one whats aloud to take her. She tried to leave once that's why she's fettered. He was the one what was with the lass when you got here."

Jamie's head shot up. He had only seen the one gentleman in front with the one horse. No one was in the room when he entered. He only saw Claire on the path and down by the sea.

He looks up at Murtagh. "A white horse was flying back down the road as I came around back." Murtagh says and nods his head. "Only one white horse around here that I ken of. We can check with the blacksmith. Claire can tell you for sure, if she'll talk."

Jamie says one word and he feels Claire start to shake with fear leaning against his chest. His arms tighten around her. He has his man and he has a good idea who helped.

They are done here. He turns Donas toward the road asking him for a canter. They need find the blacksmith first.


	4. Chapter 4 - The Blacksmith

We reach the blacksmiths and ride into the yard. The blacksmith is placing the wheel on a coach. He gives the cotter pin one final tap and straightens up, hand on his back. He turns and nods his head to me in acknowledgment of our arrival. I halt Donas and dismount. I place my hand on Claire's knee and she looks down at me and extends her arms. I shake my head.

"No," I explain. "Wait here on Donas with Murtagh. I want to talk to the blacksmith first." The fear I am expecting shows in her eyes. She shakes her head furiously at me. I speak softly to her, "Murtagh is right here with you, Sassenach. And Donas. I am just going over to speak to him, ya ken? I will be right back to get you."

She looks like she is going to cry. Her lower lip starts to tremble. She sucks it into her mouth and applies her teeth to it to stop its shaking. She does'na bite hard. She is try'n to be brave, for me. She grabs hold of Donas' mane with both hands and lays her head on his neck. I reach out and place my hand on her very swollen check. Her eye does'na look so bad, though bruising and swelling are apparent, but her jaw does'na look good; it has to be painful. It is already black and blue. Maybe that is why she is'na talking; it must hurt her to move it. Donas butts me with his head. He moves me out of the way, reaches around, grabs Claire's skirt in his mouth and pulls it. He kens. He has her. Claire rubs his neck in response. I look up and over Donas to Murtagh. He nods his head and I nod back. We understand. I look once more at her, a tear sliding down her cheek. I make a sad attempt at a verra weak smile, turn and walk away.

As I pass the coach I notice a woman sitting on a bench outside what I can only assume is the Farrier's home. I could not see her when we rode in; the coach blocked her from our view. She is cloaked with the hood up. I can'na see her face. She is root'n through a basket on her lap. I pay her no attention and approach the blacksmith.

"I need fetters removed from my companion. Are you able to do that?" I inquire.

"Aye," he replies, his eyebrows knot in the unasked question. "I've just finished the coach. Let me get them on their way and I will be with you."

I turn to walk back to Claire and Murtagh. I see movement out of the corner of my eye. My hand instinctively goes to my sword hilt as I turn. It is the woman from the bench. As she walks toward me she drops the hood. Geillis. Geillis Duncan. What is she doing here? I stop dead in my tracks.

"My, My," she says seductively as she sashays toward me. "What a very pleasant surprise to find the wee fox cub out here in the middle of nowhere. Divine province I would say." A wicked smile crosses her face and into her eyes.

I do'na like this woman. Never have. I ken Dougal tolerates her and Claire calls her friend but I ken her to be the she-witch she is and would'na turn my back on her ever. She walks forward and places her index finger on my chest and waggles it down to my dirk, her eyes following the fingers path. She taps the dirk handle twice and then looks back up at me.

"What brings you here Mistress Duncan?" I ask. "Last I ken you were on trial for witchcraft and to burn at the stake in Cranesmuir. You must truly be a witch to have escaped that." I cannot help but allow a small smile to escape my lips.

"You can see what you heard was na but a rumor, for I am standing before you alive and uncooked," she says playfully. "I was in the area, visit'n friends, and had a coach issue, which seems to have been resolved. I am to be on my way shortly. And you, young fox cub, why are you here? Has your horse thrown a shoe then? Though, I thought heard you ask the blacksmith about leg irons," and her eyes dropped down to my feet. "I see it isn't you. Would it be your bonnie companion then?" Nodding toward the lass atop Donas. Again she smiles playfully and places her index finger in between her teeth and gently bites it, swinging her hips side to side. Not waiting for me to respond, she turns on her heals and walks boldly toward Donas. "And just who might the lass be? Anyone I ken? Let's have a look shall we? Perhaps you could introduce us."

Donas' head shoots up. Ears forward as Geillis approaches. Alert. Claire doesn't move, is not aware; her head still rests on the horse's neck looking down at the ground. Murtagh is watching, hand at the ready on his dirk's hilt; he kens Geillis and cares for her no more than I. I whistle and Donas moves to me, giving Geillis a wide berth.

Murtagh smiles. The horse kens evil even in a pretty package.

Donas stops and nudges my shoulder then looks back at Geillis who has stopped in her tracks, looking back at us, smiling. I swear Donas smiles back, showing the witch his teeth. I smile back at the witch as well.

I rub Donas' nose. "Good Lad," I say and then reach my arm under his head and around his neck and pat him on the far side. Claire's cheek never left Donas' neck. She hears my voice and looks into my eyes with contentment. Those beautiful whiskey eyes of hers; a man could get lost in them. It warms my heart and I kiss her gently on the lips, twice. I kiss her once for me, because I need to. I kiss her again for the witch, so she kens Claire is mine. I look. My Sassenach eyes are closed and her lips are waiting for me to kiss them again. I want to verra badly but can'na now. "You have a visitor Sassenach," I say to her. Her eyes open, wide, questioning me. I nod in the direction they just came from and place my hand on her thigh. Claire sits up and looks. Her eyes fasten on Geillis. I can'na put a name to the look that comes to the witch's face. Confusion, recognition, surprise, incomprehension and relief are all there and then add anger and hostility when she sees the irons on Claire's leg.

Mistress Duncan does not sashay back. She is confused, yes but angry too. She runs the two dozen or more steps back and stops in front of Claire and looks up at her, taking in her damaged face. She takes Claire's hands assessing the broken nails, bloodied knuckles and what looks like old rope burns on both wrists. She looks down and places her hand on the irons and then, her head whips around and unleashes her full fury on me.

"What the hell is this, Mister MacTavish," she hisses at me. "What has happened to her? When did you find her? And just where did you find her?" She had extended her claws and is not afraid to use them.

I ignore Mistress Duncan's huffing and puffing; she does'na scare me. Claire is my only concern. I reach up and place my hands on Claire's waist. She smiles and places her hands on my shoulders and slips down out of the saddle and into my arms. She places a return kiss on my lips as I set her gently on the ground. She kisses me because she knows I want her to. "Come," I say. "The blacksmith will take the irons off now." We turn and walk away from Geillis. Claire's hand enmeshed in my belt once again.

Geillis turns to follow. I don't need to see, to know. As she passes Donas, I hear "Shit. What the hell? Try to bite me again and I will turn you into dog food."

Claire stops, still holding tightly to my belt, turns to Geillis and says "No. Please. Not a can of Alpo. He's my friend," and turns back to me. She removes the hand she had to place on her jaw in order to speak; I can see how painful it was.

I, once again, have no words for the expression on Geillis' face. Shock, surprise, intrigue, then a wicked smile and a look of knowing and understanding. She kens something I do not. She understands what Claire just said.

Claire sometimes speaks what I and Murtagh refer to as "Daft". She has said things, used words I have never heard before, and I am an educated man with a gift for languages. Where I understood Mistress Duncan's words, though the why of one wanting to kill a horse and feed it to a dog was lost on me, I understood each and every word and its meaning. Clearly Claire understood everything as well. Claire's response, however, was "daft". I did'na ken "can of Alpo" but Geillis did. Her face made that clear. Those exact words meant something to her. She recognized them and understood their meaning. And yet it surprised her that Claire had used them. That makes me nervous. That is what causes my concern.

Murtagh is concerned as well; he is watching and listening. He shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head at me when I look to him. He does not ken either. He dismounts and walks over, leading his horse. He grabs Donas and takes both to the water trough for a much needed drink, shaking his head. It is a puzzle.

The blacksmith is ready and motions to a bench. I sit and pat my lap. Claire sits, places her arms around my neck and nuzzles her face into me. I laugh. Her breath tickles me. "Claire," I start, "The blacksmith needs you to place your leg up on the anvil. No, the other one, the one with the iron. Good." I place my arms around her and hear her sigh in my ear. I close my eyes and steady myself. It's all I can do not to ravish her right here and now; throw her on the ground in this very yard and take her, not caring who sees. It takes all of my control to push that image from my head. "The blacksmith is going to remove the iron. He is going to have to hit it with his hammer quite hard, ya ken Claire. He will be as gentle as he can," I glare at him as I say this and add, "It might hurt a wee bit." I toss him the plaid to pad her foot and leg. A couple of well placed blows and iron falls open. Her leg is free. Claire never even flinches. She is too busy nibbling on my ear to have even noticed. It is good he is done because I am going to have trouble walking in another minute; Claire certainly kens how to get a rise out of me.

Geillis clears her throat and when I look up she motions to a bench under the shade of a tree on the other side of the yard. Away from the blacksmith. I have already paid him so I lift Claire from my lap, grab the plaid and walk toward the bench carrying her.

I quickly remember, stop and turn to Murtagh. "Be sure to keep the irons. We must give them back to their rightful owner when next we see him," I say to remind him. It is part of an agreement we had made on our way here from the cottage.

I turn back toward the bench and continue walking. Mistress Duncan walks beside us. I laugh because Claire's tongue is in my ear now and I say, "Claire, stop please. Mistress Duncan would like to talk to you. Claire!" and toss her slightly in the air and catch her. She looks at me with surprise in her eyes, and merriment. "Claire, Mistress Duncan would like a word, ya ken? Stop and focus Sassenach."

"focus" is her reply and she focuses on my neck now.

I toss her again. She behaves the rest of the walk to the bench.

We are at the bench. I try to set her down but she will have no part of being separated from me. "I will only stay if you allow Mistress Duncan to help ya and listen to what she has to say to Claire." She stops and nods her head. I sigh and sit down, once again with Claire on my lap. Claire sits up, rubbing her lovely round arse in my lap as she settles, her arms still around my neck, and looks directly at Geillis. I will not be able to walk before this is all over. Claire has to be aware of the effect she is having on me. No way she can'na. I make a mental note that I am going to have to find her a horse to ride. There is no way I will last long with her bonnie arse wedged between my thighs.

Geillis says, "I want to look at your bruises while we talk Claire." Claire is as close to a girlfriend as I have had since I've traveled here. For that reason I am as kind and gentle with her as I can be. She is in bad shape. Thin. Not that Claire was ever heavy but much thinner than the last time I saw her. That would be the night of the Oath Taking during the Gathering. Almost four months ago. I note the rope tied around her waist. To hold her skirts up, I guess. Her dress is a mess and she smells like an extremely dirty ocean. In my basket I have a salve that I rub on the raw skin around Claire's ankles. I wrap them with two of my clean handkerchiefs. Claire allows me to look at the bruised eye and to touch her jaw. "There is not much I can do about your jaw, ya ken. If it is not broken then it is definitely fractured. It is painful for you to talk, aye? Or even eat?" I almost state rather than ask. I look directly at Claire and say, "You ken what to do for your jaw, correct?" Claire nods. "I wish there was ice or snow. That would help with the swelling and pain. It will have to heal in its own time I'm afraid." I shake my head sadly. I hate to leave Claire like this. I wish Raymond was here. He could help her. Reduce the swelling and start the healing. Maybe help with the pain. "Your talking will best be limited for a while. Save movement for eating. It will have to be soft foods and liquids only, for a while." Claire nods again. This is the work of a very angry man, I say to myself.

"Who did this to you Claire?" I ask and shoot Jamie a look. Jamie shakes his head that it was not him, or Murtagh, but clearly Claire's body language tells me that; she feels safe with the fox cub and his godfather. They had nothing to do with this, short of finding and rescuing her. I ken Jamie's been looking high and low for her since she went missing. I ken why now. He loves her. He will lay his life on the line to protect her. From anyone. Anything. Good. That is good to know.

I look to James Fraser, yes I ken who he really is; not McTavish. The Laird of Lallybroch. Lord Lovat, the Old Fox, Laird of Clan Fraser's very own grandson. I've known for a long time. He was almost my second choice for a lover when I realized I could not have the one I came for. Colum could not be. Colum ban Campbell MacKenzie has Toulouse-Lautrec Syndrome. Who ken? Nothing about a physical handicap in any of my research before I came. My womanly guiles would not work on him, even if I could get him alone to work my magic. No, I had to adjust and chose his War Chief instead. Dougal MacKenzie has the heart of a lion. He will do battle for me when I ask him. Jamie seemed to sense my heart and was repulsed by it when I first flirted with him several years ago. My magic never stood a chance with him. But Claire, my little Claire seems to have woven a spell around the wee fox cub. Knowledge I could indeed make use of later. The Lovat prophecy seems to loom in the background.

"Where did you find her?" I direct my question to Jamie, as Claire shows no interest in answering. Jamie explains the cottage, the conditions and that they had come straight here to have the irons removed.

"And who? Did Claire tell you who did this?" I ask. I already know. I just need validation. There is only one person that would hide her in that cottage. My Lion has a wandering eye apparently; I do smell him on her. When I had seen him a little over an hour ago, I ken he had been with a woman. I ken now it was Claire that I smelled on him and can clearly see it was not consensual. Over three months he has had her here, under lock and key, beating and raping her. Why did he want her? I had been imprisoned also during some of that time, but neither Claire nor Jamie had anything to do with that; that was strictly Colum's doing. I am pregnant with Dougal's child and had poisoned my husband because he knew. Colum had somehow figured that out. He had drummed up the witch trial to get rid of me. Colum is the brains. Dougal is the brawn. Together they make a whole Clan MacKenzie Laird. I smile. It was Dougal who has arranged for another to burn in my place. Dougal safely removed me to the home of a mutual friend, Clarence Marylebone. We Jacobite's must stick together and Clarence, I must say, moves in some pretty important circles. We were on our way to Edinburgh to catch a ship bound for France when we had issues with the coach wheel and had stop to make repairs. Divine intervention indeed. Most fortuitous.

What? What did Jamie just say? "The old couple from the cottage had said 'The MacKenzie had ordered them to take care of her" and now he watches my face for a reaction. Ah, a sly wee fox cub. Throw out bait and see if I snap at it. It isn't Colum, but you are close. Well, Claire is my friend. I will not allow ANYONE to do this to her and go unpunished, even my Lion. I must slap the hand of my trusted knight to gain a stronger ally. Lovat's grandson will be a powerful knight in my armament. Claire can make that happen for me. But first, I need to hear it from Claire that it is my lion that must be punished.

I grab Claire's shoulders and lower myself to eye level with her and look her directly in the eye. She returns my look. "You must give me the name of the man responsible for this" I state firmly and bluntly. "I need you to say his name. Tell me who did this to you Claire."

Claire looks down at her hands in her lap. They are trembling. Jamie places his own hand over them, protectively. She looks up to him and he moves so that his forehead now touches hers. She seems to pull the strength she needs from him and without moving and utters a single word - "Dougal." She whispers, "I'm so sorry Jamie. I tried to leave the night of the oath swearing and they caught me. I have been here ever since. I was trying to kill myself when you found me. I had given up all hope and then you came. My light, My hope, My love." Claire removes one hand and places it on his cheek. Jamie covers it with his own, turns, kisses her palm and holds it against his cheek. I realize they are oblivious to my presence.

"Sassenach, this is not your fault," Jamie says forcefully to her. "NEVER say that again. Do not blame yourself, EVER. You did NOTHING to deserve this. NOTHING. My Uncle will pay for this evil. I promise to you Claire. I will kill him before this day is done, for you. You will have no need to fear him by this days end. I swear to you."

The witch sits back on her heals with this new knowledge and watches as the two of them cry in each others arms. The wee fox is not repulsed by Claire's declaration. He is stroking her hair. Rubbing her back and her arms. Whispering to her in Gaelic. Comforting her. Not too many men would care for a woman ravaged like Claire has been, no matter what century they are from. Most would just walk away. I am in awe. I ken the wee fox cub loves Claire, I saw that earlier. But Claire loves him as well. Since when? There is more. There is a connection than runs deeper than love alone. Is this why Claire came through the Stones? Did Claire come here for the fox cub? Is Claire part of the prophecy? Or did she come to stop the Jacobite Rising? I need to know before I can leave.

"Why are you here Claire?" Geillis demanded in almost a shout.

Both Claire and I turned to look at her. I had forgotten the witch was here.

"Why?" Claire repeated.

"Yes, why are you here?" Geillis repeated a little softer.

"Dougal." She said again, confused. I reach out and wipe her tears with my sleeve.

"No!" Geillis speaks in anger. "I ken why you are here physically, now, at the blacksmiths. I mean…WHY are you HERE? When did you come? How? Through the STONES? Why?" She watches Jamie's face for his reaction. She needs to know how much he kens also. Has Claire told him? If he does not ken her questions to Claire, which are vague enough, he might not understand what information she is seeking. She needs to be careful. The wee fox cub is quite cleaver. The less he kens the better.

I look from Claire to Geillis and then back to Claire. At the word STONES, Claire has turned and faced Geillis, tilting her head in an unasked question.

"1968" Geillis said.

Claire just stares. She turns and looks at me. I am confused. Ideas of what they are saying bouncing around in my head, but none of it makes any sense. Where did Murtagh said he had found Claire? Craigh na Dun. Standing Stones. **Fairy Hill** some call it. 1968. Claire, still looking at me, whispers "1945."

"Nineteen forty-five," I repeat in a whisper, looking directly at Claire. "Do you mean the year of our lord Nineteen hundred and forty five?" Claire nods her head just once. I put a finger to her lips. We will continue this conversation later. In private.

"Why? Why did you come?" Geillis is asking again.

"Why?" Claire turns again to face Geillis. "No why. Just came. Stones roared. Placed my hand on the stone and I was here, Craigh na Dun. 1742. Murtagh found me. Jamie has protected me. I stupidly attempted to leave." My Sassenach turns and looks at me with such love in those whiskey eyes and says "which I will never do again. I promise." She is worn out; I see it in her face. I pull her into my chest. I do not ken what that is all about but Claire will tell me later, when we are away from the witch.

"Claire," I start, my chin resting on the top of her head as I stroke her hair. "We need to go. I need to find Dougal now. Ya ken why."

I slide Claire off my lap and onto the bench beside me, handing her the plaid. "I will be right back. I will fetch Donas. Wait here with Mistress Duncan, Claire." Claire nods. She shows no fear or discomfort at being left here with the witch. The witch places her hand on Claire's as she sits down on the bench next to her. She looks up at me and says, "She'll be fine with me. We will both wait here for you. We can continue our little chat while you are gone." She turns and smiles at Claire. A cold shiver runs up my spin. I am tempted not to leave.

When I return, Claire is standing on the bench and ready to mount Donas. I halt the horse next to the bench. She hikes up her skirts, climbs on behind me, wraps her arms around my waist and lays her cheek on my back. I nod to Geillis. Murtagh is waiting for us at the yard entrance. We leave. Murtagh and I know where to find Dougal.

I do not look back. If I had, I would have seen The Duke of Sandringham help Mistress Duncan into the Coach. To Paris they would go.


	5. Chapter 5 - Dougal

We ride down the road at a good pace. I ken who I am looking for. Dougal is most likely at the tavern Murtagh and I left earlier today. I would have guessed he'd be with the whores, if not for finding Claire as we did. Clearly he had taken Claire whenever the urge struck him; did with her as he wanted. He had no need to pay for whores. I clench and unclench my fist in anger and frustration. He will pay for the kidnapping and raping of her. I take my hand and lay it over Claire's two that are locked around my waist. I caress and stroke her fingers to reassure myself as we ride. I close my eyes briefly and take a deep breath. Her sheer presence calms me; to touch her slows my racing heart and returns my breathing to normal.

I was surprised when Claire chose to sit behind me rather than in my lap. She feels safer perhaps. I will be between her and Dougal when we find him. She can hide behind me. He will not get passed me. Our bodies have more contact as well. Her body is pressed tightly up against mine. She has her arms tight around my waist. No fear of her falling off. I can feel her rub her face against my back and sigh; like a wee cat asking for cream. Anything. Anything for my Sassenach once I am finished with my Uncle.

Dougal should be easy enough to find. We just need to look for his horse; that beautiful white and gray dapple. A fine animal. Never seen another like it. Light colored horses are rare in Scotland. Stand out too much when you're hiding in bush or forest. Most pull carriages in cities or as a ladies saddle horse on a large, English estate. Never thought to ask Dougal how he'd come by the animal.

If we have no luck finding my uncle, Murtagh and I agree we will go back to Beannachd and wait for him there. That might work to our advantage. Claire needs to bathe and could use some fresh clothes, leggings and shoes before we travel. Maura might be able to help us with these items. I'd hate to kill Dougal in Maura's home but some things cannot be helped. That's the rub isn't it? I will kill my Uncle, my surrogate father, to avenge Claire's honor. My uncle, who on several occasions, in my presence, never sanctioned or allowed his own men to rape Claire, had in fact done just that himself. In fact, by Claire's own admission, Dougal had defended her moments before she left Castle Leoch in her attempt to return to the Craigh na Dun. Yet in the end, it was Dougal who had kidnapped, shackled, beaten, raped and tortured her for 104 days. Yes, I kept track. I ken exactly how many days she's been gone. Every day I worried about her. Every day my uncle Dougal watched as I searched, questioned and inquired; he had known where she was the whole time. Bastard. I can never forgive him this transgression. My Sassenach's honor will be avenged today. He will die by my sword.

Almost an hour of riding and we find we are back where Murtagh and I began today's search for Claire. There, tied out front, is the horse we are looking for. Dougal will be inside. I pat Claire's hands and she releases me. I dismount and Claire shifts so she is sitting in the saddle. She kens she is to wait outside. We have had this discussion; made this plan. She has seen enough violence for one lifetime. I will spare her this. I hand her the reins. She looks down at me. I know she is worried for me; for my safety. I put my hand on her knee and squeeze it gently.

"Murtagh and I won't be long," I assure her. Murtagh nods in confirmation. "If you become scared, do as we discussed. Take Donas and head out of town. There is a fork in the road. Take the left fork and about a mile down that road there is a stream. You can wait for us there if that will help you feel safer. Donas will look out for you and I pat the horse's neck. We will come for you when we are finished if you are not out here waiting. Agreed?"

Claire nods, then wiggles her finger at me and lowers her face. I lean up to kiss her. She opens her mouth slightly and ever so softly takes my lower lip in her teeth and gently sucks my lip before she withdraws her mouth from mine. My heart skips a beat. God, I love this woman. Next thing I know she is sitting up in the saddle, tying her hair back with a neck stock. She is smiling at me. My hand goes to my throat. Yes, it's mine. Mine is missing. How did she do that? I shake my head and smile back. She reaches into her bodice and removes a handkerchief; an amazingly clean handkerchief, I'll add. She kisses it and then through the now open neck of my shirt, she leans down and slips it under my shirt, placing it over my heart. My still damp shirt and waistcoat will hold it in place. She has taken a favor from me and given me one of hers in return. I am her chosen defender. She has chosen to be mine.

Concentrate, I remind myself. Allow no further distractions. My task is not easy one. It will be no simple matter to kill him. My uncle is not an unskilled foe. Almost everything I know about swords and fighting, Dougal has taught me. It will take everything I have ever learned to end this man's life. My uncle is not a smart or clever man but in battle you rely on your instincts; your gut and reflexes. Finely honed skills from years of practice. That he has that in spades. He cheats. He will fight dirty. This will only end with one of us dead. For Claire's sake it will be me. I do not allow myself to think what would happen to her if I fail. I remind myself Dougal will not be in there alone either. There are plenty of horses outside. I counted 9, including Dougal's. 9 to 2. Not great odds. Murtagh will have my back. I check the position of my weapons, nod to Murtagh and turn toward the tavern door.

I never noticed how dark this place is. It has large windows in the front but the glass is not clean; it is covered with years of dirt and grim. The dirt makes a natural curtain. There is enough light to play cards. Enough light to find and kill my uncle and I find him quickly. He is not hiding from me. He kens better. He has selected the place of battle and his position also. He is seated at a table near the hearth. Facing the door. He kens that I am here; he sees me walk in. He kens who is with me and the weapons I bring and he has no lifted a finger nor moved a muscle to learn this. A good strategist. Rupert and Angus are seated with him. Each has a drink in front of them, only my uncle's glass is empty. Rupert nods his head at me. Dougal's position is good and wisely selected. I will have to cross the room to meet him. His men can then come in behind me. Dougal has Rupert and Angus on either side. The hearth to guard his back. I scan the room. There are small clusters of men. Mostly MacKenzie men. There are enough locals to be witnesses to what is about to transpire.

Dougal pours a glass of whiskey and sets it down in front of the chair opposite him and pours himself another glass. I guess he thinks I'm here to sit, drink and talk. Maybe have some supper too? A half smile crosses my face. I can'na blame the man for try'n.

I approach the table with my dirk drawn, pointing it at him. I have it in an underhanded grip, resting in my palm with my fingers lightly wrapped around the hilt. The grip says I am not threatening to kill him with it, just using it for emphasis; making a point so to speak. I ken what he's done and he understands that. He has done more that just physically hurt Claire, although I would kill him for that offense alone. He has dishonored and belittled her. Trivialized her. Made her feel unimportant and insignificant. He has taken away her belief in herself and made her feel valueless. He has done this to Claire and I'll no have it. He understands the message I am sending LOUD and CLEAR. I can easily toss the dirk lightly in the air and change my grip to an overhanded grasp and be armed to stab my uncle in less time that it would take him to even move his hand in the direction of his dirk or even blink his eyes. What did Claire say that time…'I am locked and loaded'. My loon. I make a half smile.

Dougal does not ken the true reason for the smile, he thinks, perhaps, I'm alright with what he has done. He could'na be farther from the truth and he will learn that soon enough. My uncle leans back in his chair and holds his hand up shoulder height, palms out, to show he has no weapons drawn. His version of a white flag; he wants to talk, a chance to explain.

Murtagh said Dougal would try to talk his way out of this; to try and justify his actions to me. He also thinks that Colum kens that Claire is here. How long Colum has ken, Murtagh said he would guess shortly after we returned from collecting the rents knowing that I had'na found her. Murtagh said Colum had told him that he thought that Claire might come to me, whereas stay hidden if anyone else looked for her. He said Mistress Fitz had expressed the idea to Himself one evening. We had been everywhere else in Clan MacKenzie territory and not a whisper of her. Dougal's home was really the only place left to search. Murtagh also said Rupert might finally have grown a heart and told Colum of his part in Claire's disappearance. Rupert had liked Claire almost from the start as well as I. He had tried to get Dougal to let Claire ride with him so he could rub himself against her the whole way back to Leoch. His way of wooing a lass is just a little different than mine. Murtagh also believes that's why Colum sent me to Beannachd with Dougal. So I'd find Claire and bring this mess to a halt; save Colum the embarrassment of having to do it himself. Quite a set of brothers my poor mother has. I think I will stop calling them Uncles.

He halts Donas outside the tavern. Lots of horses outside. The white one I recognize. The rapist's. I have seen it much too often not to know. Jamie dismounts and I shift my position until I am seated in the saddle. I am afraid for him. My look must tell him that. He smiles at me and all becomes right in the world. He is a warrior. He will defend my stupid honor even if it costs him his life. I told him it did not matter. What is important to me is that I am not longer a prisoner. Jamie has freed me. Removed me from the rapist's reach. That is all that matters. Squeezing my knee does nothing to reassure me. This is not good. There is no guarantee that everything will be alright.

I take his stock so that he will know he needs protecting as well as I do and I am just the gal to do it. I tie it in my hair so he will see it when I need him to. I hate Dougal with every fiber of my being but killing him will have devastating consequence for Jamie, so it is not an option. I know this. I accept this. Why can Jamie not? It's my fucking honor, after all. Dougal, and Colum are Jamie's uncles, to maim Dougal is a possibility; Colum might forgive Jamie especially if Colum is told the truth about what Dougal has done to me. To out right kill Dougal, Jamie would incur Colum's full wrath. That infraction would cost Jamie the sanctuary that Clan MacKenzie provides him. The British are looking for him; he is certainly an easy man to spot in a crowd. The price on his head would make him an easy target. I cannot allow that. I won't allow that. Not after all he has done for me. I need him too.

Geillis promised if I did exactly what she said to do, Jamie and Murtagh would not be harmed. A plan was made when she and I spoke while Jamie went to fetch Donas. She was quick and direct. She was sure Dougal would win, not Jamie. Where I do not believe this to be the most probably outcome I must, however, believe it to be a possible one. I believe Jamie to be the stronger and certainly smarter of the two but I am not willing to throw Jamie to her Lion and let chips fall where they may. Geillis has given me a knife . That is the reason why I elected to sit behind Jamie, rather than in front. It is safely hidden in my skirt pocket. Jamie might have felt it if I sat in front of him. She said that she understands that I may have to hurt Dougal to get his attention, but that she can not allow me to kill him. There is no worry there. As a healer I do not think I can, in all good consciousness, take a life on purpose. To save Jamie, all bets were off however; the fucking bastard would die by my hand if one lovely red curl was hurt on that rock hard head of his.

In return, Geillis will make sure the Duke of Sandringham gets Jamie his pardon. It will be waiting for Jamie at his home, where ever the hell Jamie MacTavish's home is. Geillis assures me she knows where to send it and not to Castle Leoch.

Geillis has also given me some bracelet. She said, "Show it to Dougal. He will recognize it as mine. He will ken the message I am sending and back down." It would then be up to me to keep Jamie from killing him. I knew what I had to do.

Just before Jamie arrives on Donas, I place my hand gently on Geillis stomach and look into her eyes. I know she is pregnant. I have a feeling it is Dougal's. Geillis just says "six months."

I dismount from Donas. He turns and nudges me with his nose. I patted his neck and tell him I'll be right back, to be ready for a fast exit. I make my way around the back of the tavern and enter through the back door. I walk with purpose through the kitchen and enter the main room in a darken corner beside the bar. I stop, allowed my eyes to adjust to the dim light and scan the room for Murtagh and Jamie. I know I'll find Dougal in front of Jamie by now.

"Why?" Jamie wants to know, "Why?"

"Because she is a spy, ya ken that Jamie," Dougal replies calmly. "Or does the witch have you so crazy with lust for her, that ya can'na even see it?"

"A spy? Are you still spouting that potz?" Jamie hurled back at his uncle in anger. "Did ya even ask her?"

"Aye," was Dougal's reply. "Rupert and Angus were there. They'll tell ya true. Asked her several times and all she gave me was her smart mouth back. Got right in my face and shouted NO at me. But I ken she was lying. Right from the start. When Murtagh brought her to us. A spy and a whore to boot. Colum says so too. Geez Jamie. Wake up. You saw how she was dressed and not even embarrassed to be walking about in her shift. Right comfortable in it she was. Even tearing it shorter to make bandages for your wounds."

Jamie felt Murtagh's hand on his shoulder. He needed to keep a calm head. Not let his Fucking Uncle get him riled. Too late for that. He needed to calm down. "You say'n she never actually said she was a spy. That she denied it, every time you asked her? And yet you still thought you should kidnap, beat, rape and torture her for over three months. Her never once admitting to being a spy? Have I got that right?" Jamie tried to inflect calmness into his voice. It was'na working very well, but at least he was no longer shouting.

"Weel Jamie, I'd hardly expect a spy to confess, would ya? We'd have to kill her then, would'na we?" Dougal stated thinking he knew and Jamie had been fooled.

"And Colum? Colum kens? Colum allowed this?" Jamie demanded.

"Well, no. I did'na tell Colum because I had'na gotten her to confess yet. But Colum and I spoke about her being a spy. When she did confess I was gon'na take her back to Castle Leoch and let Colum make an example of what happens to an English or French Spy. Which ever it turned out she was," Dougal said and leaned back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest. He had closed his case. He had proven his point. Ned Gowen could'na have done any better he thought to himself.

Jamie stopped. Took a breath and said, "Did it ever, in the whole three months ya had her, occur to ya, while ya were rape'n and beat'n her regular, that she might have be just tell'n ya the truth? Any of you wee idiots? Rupert? Angus? Did ya try and reason with my idiot uncle at any time?" Jamie took the leg irons and threw them on the table in front of his uncle. "Ya had her shackled? Was that really necessary? And you have the only key?" Jamie said loudly. He wanted all the MacKenzie men to know the kind of man they were following. "Did you ken the old couple were letting others have her as well? Charge'n. Make'n money off her too. Did you ken there was a man wait'n for his time with her after you were done? Today. Paid already and wait'n his turn."

Rupert and Angus both shook their heads No. Dougal just smiled.

"Uncle, ya play cards. I beat ya all the time. Ya ken why? 'Cus ya have a tell. When ya have a good hand ya shuffle ya cards around, pretending your try'n to figure out a way to make'm good. When ya've been dealt a lousy hand ya pull on your ear," Jamie said smiling. "Did ya ever notice, in the whole three months, that Claire, or I'm sorry, should I be call'n her Sorcha, has a tell? She can'na tell a lie that you can'na read it on her face. She has a glass face. That's right Uncle. From the first week I ken that one." Jamie laughed at them and shook his head.

"And who sends a spy that can'na speak the local language? Would the English send a spy to France that can'na speak and understand French? And not bad or passable French. French like a native. Claire did'na have a word of Gaelic in her when she came. I had to translate every song that Gwyllyn sang, Gaelic and Welsh, because she did'na understand any of it. Jesus, she though Sassenach was a compliment when you first called her that, ya dolt," he added for good measure. "Claire kens I mean it kindly, a pet name I have for her. She kens I mean her no harm when I call her that," Jamie added quickly.

Dougal had enough. He'd listened to Jamie rant for Jamie's mother's sake and Jamie was wrong. Claire was a spy. She might not have confessed but he ken it in his bones. He stood up and rested both hands flat on the table. "Jamie," he started, "Ya are like the son I never had. But the witch has cast a spell on ya. Ya are not think'n clearly. I need ya to put down your weapon, share a drink and let me talk some sense into that thick head of yours.

No one saw her coming but Murtagh and he was happy to see that someone was finally going to stab that idiot uncle of Jamie's. Claire came quickly and quietly from behind and as she ran forward she brought the knife up with both hands and brought it down hard on Dougal's left hand. So hard that most of the blade was missing. Pinning his sword hand to the table. When she let go of the knife handle, she had her surgical scalpel still in her hand and stabbed him in the shoulder and dragged the blade around the arm socket, cutting through muscle and tendons like butter. When she pulled it out he was bleeding like a stuffed pig. He would never raise that hand or arm to slap or beat another woman again. Jamie quickly reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her behind him to protect her and at the same time Jamie tossed the dirk in the air, quickly changed his grip to overhand. He meant business now.

Dougal roared in pain. Jesus, Geillis had the right animal, Claire thought to herself. Dougal tried to move his hand but it was pinned. She had nailed him. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the bracelet Geillis had given her and threw it on the table. Dougal saw it, picked it up with his free hand and stared at Claire. She mouthed the word "Baby", grabbed Jamie's belt from behind and started to pull him back toward the front door. Murtagh took hold of Claire's free hand, she had slipped the scalpel into her pocket then turned so his back was to Claire and Jamie and they walked out the front door together. No one tried to stop them. Jamie mounted Donas and reached to help Claire but she was not there. He looked at Murtagh who was already mounted and circling, waiting for Jamie to take the lead. Murtagh did not have her. Then Claire was suddenly there. He took his foot out of the stir-up so she could put her foot in and Jamie helped pull her up in the saddle in front of him, her beautiful arse nestled between his thighs. He found the stir-up with his foot and they took off. It was then that he noticed that Claire had a lead in her hand. He looked back and saw they were towing Dougal's Dapple Gray with them. He threw his head back and laughed. When they passed Murtagh, the look of such surprise on his face made Jamie laugh all over again. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her tightly against him. God, he loved this woman so much.


	6. Chapter 6 - A camping we will go

We finally stop. The horses need rest and water. So do we. We are exhausted; all three of us. We are all well past the initial euphoria of our jousting with the rapist and the days events have taken their toll. Jamie dismounts and then helps me down, making sure I am steady on my feet before he lets me go.

"You're wearing a fair amount of Douglas's blood Sassenach," he says with a half smile on his face. "I think it is fair to say ya've taught my Uncle a lesson he is not likely to ever forget. Why don't ya go down to the stream and have a wash while Murtagh and I take care of the horses and make camp. I think we'll stay here for the night, aye?" He leans in and gives me a kiss.

I grab hold of his coat with both hands to hold him in the kiss. I feel the charge run from our lips all the way down my spine and to the tips of my toes. I sigh when he pulls away and I look up into his face. His eyes are dark and veiled. He is hiding his thoughts from me. "Not fair," I say. "My face is glass."

Jamie smiles at me and says "Ya are an open book to me, Sassenach, always have been, true enough," and playfully grunts when I slug him in the arm. "Ya will ken all about me soon enough. Go on, off with ya. Have your wash. It will make ya feel better, I ken. We'll have some supper and talk." He places his palm against my swollen jaw. "Well, maybe you'll be do'n a fair amount of listening for once." He jumps back, dodging my swing at him and laughs at me. He takes the gray horse's lead, pushes my shoulder to turn me in the direction of the stream and swats my ass as I walk away. "Aye," is all I hear and it inspires an enormous grin on my face. I pass Murtagh and I blow him a kiss. He raises his eyebrows at me in surprise and quickly looks toward Jamie for some reason. I do not turn around to see Jamie's response. I keep walking to the stream making sure my lovely round ass is swaying as I walk. I know more than he thinks I do. I do have functioning ears, after all.

At the banks edge, I pull my scalpel from my skirt pocket and clean the blood from it. I place it on a rock near the edge of the stream. It is not sterile; I will have to boil it in water before I can safely use it again. I reach down and grab the hem of the back of my skirt and pull it forward and up. I pull the edge up and under the rope around my waist. This hikes the skirt up passed my knees so when I walk into the stream my skirt will not get wet. I look like I am wearing a large woolen diaper. I waddle out until until the water is deep enough I can see my reflection; almost knee deep. I look my face over carefully. I have a cut above my eye and the eye is swollen, though not as bad as I thought it would be. It is swollen and becoming a nice bright red with plenty of blue from the hemorrhaging. If Mistress FitzGibbons were around, she would have some lovely leaches for me. I sigh at the memory, knowing I will never see her again.

My jaw is another matter entirely. It is swollen and looks as though I have a banana tucked in my cheek. The swelling runs the entire length of my jaw. The bruise is a bute; it is the size of my entire hand. Completely black and blue; no red to be seen. I look like a prize fighter. I palpate the area to try and determine if the jaw is broken or just fractured. I do not feel a break but it is really too swollen to effectively determine. There is no sure way to know if it is broken or fractured short of an actual x-ray; the treatment would be the same either way, in the 1700's. I need to stop talking, stick to liquids and really soft foods. Jamie and Murtagh are going to love this.

That is when I realize just how much of Dougal's blood I am wearing. I don't like it, having his blood all over me. I cup my hands and splash water on my face and rub it gently with my hands. I realize it will take a cloth of some kind to scrub with in order to be effective. I do not have even a dirty handkerchief but then I remember Jamie's stock. I remove it, wet it and use it as a wash cloth, hoping Jamie won't mind. My face, ears, chest and arms are almost washed. I realize my hair must be equally as bad. I bend at the waist and submerge my whole head, and while holding my breath, I try and clean it by rubbing handfuls of my hair together against my scalp. I lift my head up and realize that is not going to work. I look down and grab a handful of silt and try rubbing it on my lower arm first. My skin starts to look pink. I reach down grab another handful, lean my head forward, and start to wash my hair with it. Then my face, neck and chest, grabbing more silt as I am in need of it. I am now covered in silt rather than blood, an improvement hygienically speaking though I have made myself much worse from a visual standpoint. When I am rinsing for the second time, I notice the handkerchiefs tied around my ankles. I had forgotten all about them. I lift my leg in an attempt to untie and remove one. I loose my balance, as I am not very adept at standing on one leg, and find myself sitting in the water. Well, that does make it easier to untie both handkerchiefs from my ankle. I rinse them and start to stuff them in my bodice. I stop when I notice just how filthy the bodice is – dirt sprayed with blood of the rapist. Without looking, I throw the handkerchiefs up on the bank and begin to unlace and remove my bodice. I wet it thoroughly and start to scrub. The bodice has been a mouse brown for as long as I can remember. I had forgotten it was ever a hunter's green fabric with a paisley pattern in the front; I cannot remember the last time I washed it. Never maybe? I notice the skirt is not much better. I tuck the bodice under my arm and untied the rope. I can see how dirty my legs and feet are. I grab a handful of silt and start scrubbing my feet. While I am doing this, I see areas on my arms that still have blood, I grab more silt and attempt to re-clean them. The skirt is in the way; I need to remove it. That reminds me there is one area I really need to clean. The rapist has touched me there, many times and it needs to be thoroughly cleaned. The skirt must come off to accomplish this task. I throw my bodice up on the bank. I do not watch where it lands either. I do not see Jamie and Murtagh standing on the bank watching me with very worried looks on their faces. When I stand the skirt just falls off. I grab the waist floating in the water and step out of it. I turn to throw it up on the bank as well. That is when I see Jamie and Murtagh. I don't have time to talk to them. I need to clean myself. I throw my skirt on the bank and squat in the water. I grab silt, lift my shift and start to scrub the inside of my thighs and between my legs. I grab more silt and re-scrub my thighs, between my legs and now include the lower part of my torso, lifting the shift higher as I go. I need to clean my chest and stomach; the rapist has touched me there as well. The shift needs to go. The corset needs to come off. I start to undo my corset laces when Jamie's hand take hold of both of mine. I sit down in the water and look up into his extremely anxious face. He looks upset and nervous.

"Dirty," I say in a flat, lifeless tone. "The rapist's touch. I cannot seem to remove his touch from me Jamie," I say with sadness in my voice. I swallow hard. "It won't scrub off, no matter how hard I try. Help me, please Jamie." I look up into his eyes, pleading for help.

I don't know what to to. Murtagh and I watch from the bank. At first I thought it was funny. She had sand from the stream dripping from her hair, all over her face and arms. Then she tried to untie the handkerchief from her ankle and fell and Murtagh and I laughed. When I looked up from picking up the handkerchiefs she had thrown at us in jest, she was different. She was so serious. She had taken her bodice of and was furiously scrubbing it. Then her arms again. Then her legs. Then she throws her bodice up on the bank and it's like she sees right through us; does not even notice us. She stands up and takes her skirt off. She only has her sift and corset on now and the shift is wet and you can see right through the fabric. She turns and throws the skirt to us and goes right back to cleaning herself. She just keeps cleaning herself, scrubbing so hard she is bleeding. Now she is scrubbing furiously between her legs. I understand now. So does Murtagh.

Murtagh says he will go find us something for dinner and leaves me to help Claire in private. "Claire," I say calmly as I enter the water, "Sassenach, are you alright? Do you need help?" She does not look up. She does not reply. It is like she does not hear me. When I reach her, she is struggling with her corset laces. I take her hands in mine to still them. She looks up. She can not get my uncle's touch off her she says. I panic. I have no idea what to do. I start to speak to her softly, like I do to with the fillies when I am working to break them and they spook. I speak to them in Gaelic, it does not matter what I say; it is the inflection I use that calm the horses, it's the inflection that will calm Claire. I tell her a childhood story my mother used to tell me – about a fairy that had lost her way. I gently lay her back in the water and start to rinse the sand from her face, chest and hair. God, this water is cold. She will catch the ague if I don't get her out of this water soon and warm her, quickly.

I stand her up and walk her to the shore. My plaid is there waiting for me. "Thank you Murtagh," I say out loud in Gaelic. I hear no reply. I see my godfather has been busy; there is a fire started as well. I have no choice. I continue to speak calmly to Claire as I unlace her corset and it falls to the ground. A wet shift leaves nothing to a man's imagination. She is beautiful. I have an extra shirt in my bag so I walk to where we have piled the saddles and bags and find it. When I turn around, she is naked; she has removed the wet shift herself and is standing there shivering. I dry her off with the plaid as best I can and cover her with my shirt. It is much too big but I button the collar and, well, at least she is not completely naked. As I wrap the plaid around her, she starts to shake, uncontrollably. I pull her in close and take her in my arms. Claire utters "Rapist" as her teeth chatter. I rub my hands up and down her back and arms in an attempt to warm her. I notice she had begun to cry, softly at first and it builds, until finally she is sobbing uncontrollably. I stroke her hair and whisper poetry to her, again in Gaelic. I get through 'Catullus', because it has always made me think of Claire, and, just as I am about to start 'O Mistress Mine', Claire goes limp in my arms.

I must have passed out standing in his arms for that is the last thing I remember until I wake up. I open my eyes. I am lying next to a small fire wrapped in Jamie's plaid. Someone has made a pillow for my head with one of the saddles. Just passed the flames, on the other side of the fire, I see Murtagh watching me. He smiles, nods and then winks. I see worry in his eyes. He says to the air, "She's awake," and Jamie appears out of nowhere behind Murtagh. He sighs audibly and asks "How do you feel, Sassenach?" He has a fair amount of concern on his face as well. I definitely scared them.

I swallow hard, from guilt. "Pretty stupid," I say in response. "Sorry". I close my eyes and try and decide if I want to sit up. Nope. I think I will just lay here. I open my eyes and Jamie is kneeling at my feet, resting his hand on my leg.

"Do you think you can eat something Sassenach? Murtagh has caught us a fine rabbit. We had some bannocks in the saddle bags and I found an apple in there as well. It's not a feast but it will fill your belly, which maybe will make you feel a little better, aye?" Jamie said all in one breath. "I finished washing your bodice, skirt and shift and hung them on the bushes to dry. Hopefully they will be dry by morning. I ken they are torn but I don't see any way to mend them right now. I'm sorry. I had to get you out of those wet clothes. Please do not be angry. I put you in one of my shirts. It's clean. Are you warm enough?"

I blinked and nodded my head.

"I found your wee surgical knife and put it in your box. I was gonna make you a tea to drink but I did'na ken which of your wee herbs in your box was for tea and I did not want to make ya something that might hurt ya rather than help, Jamie rambled. "Ya just sort'a fell ta pieces, Claire. One minute you were fine then ya just sat down in the water scrub'n yourself raw. You started crying and could'na stop. Ya fainted dead away in my arms. Murtagh and I were so worried. Are ya better now?"

He moved my healers box from his side and set it in front of me, hoping I think, that I would take something out of it, make a tea or chew a leaf and be all better. Men, as a rule I have found, do not make good nurses. If they cannot hit it, stab it or just plan kill it with their bare hands, then they are generally lost, in my humble opinion. I do not suffer from something Jamie can even wrap his fingers around and he knows it. He feels lost and helpless because of it. He wants to help. He wants to wave his sword, fight a battle and fix this but he cannot. This is my battle, mine alone. Only I can fight my demons and heal myself. I do not think this will be an easy or quick fix either. Jamie being here for me, beside me will help. I will tell him that. I don't think that I can do this without him. He is my rock. He will keep me centered and focused while I battle my foes. I know that. Men can love with all their hearts but nurturing is just not in them. I know he wants to hold me, he thinks that will fix everything. It will make me feel better, help keep me strong, but it won't remove the damage the rapist has caused. I will begin work on that another day. I am too tired and my jaw hurts too much to start down that road today.

I need to show Jamie I am fine. That nothing is wrong, so they will not worry. I stand up and give them a smile. I need to urinate I tell them and make for the nearest bush. I do have to pee but mostly I just want a minute alone. To think. To gather my thoughts without them staring at me.

Jamie is going to want to talk to me about Geillis and the Stones. I will answer his questions honestly. I must. I must also be honest with myself. I will not go back to Frank or my time. I do not want to. I no longer feel a connection to either. I have thought long and hard about this. The decision had been reached not only because of all that has happened here but because somehow I feel this is where I belong. Perhaps I was meant to come here, sent to this specific time and place. Perhaps it was preordained for Murtagh to find me and take me to Jamie. Was I was sent here for Jamie; does he needs me? Strange isn't it, that I fit here? A trained nurse with a working knowledge of herbs and plants. I have skills that are useful here that are not appreciated in my own time. I have no family, except Frank and have always lived a nomadic life, never in one place too long. No ties. I know my beliefs and attitudes are more modern. I have learned my lesson about standing out. I will have to learn to adjust my behavior in order to better blend in. Those are things that Jamie will teach me.

I will eat something, tell them my truths and let Jamie and Murtagh decide what they must do. I know what I am going to do. Stay. Hopefully, Jamie will have me. If not...well, I will cross that bridge when and if I need to.

I finish organizing my thoughts and walk back to the fire. Jamie and Murtagh are both there watching me. I smile, as much to relax myself as to put them at ease. I take a sip of laudanum before I start. "I suppose you have some questions for me'" I begin. "I have a truth to tell," I add. The movement of my mouth sends shooting pain down my neck. I cup my hand around the lower part of my swollen jaw and grit my teeth through the pain. The laudanum should kick in quickly.

First, Jamie and I make a pledge to only tell the truth; we will not lie to each other. We must be totally honest with everything we speak of. Jamie says he will believe me, whatever I confess. We are under no obligation to tell each other everything but must speak only the truth when we do speak. And so it begins, the telling of my truths.

When I am done, I look at Jamie and Murtagh. Stunned would be a gross understatement. But shocked is not the word I am looking for either. Confounded might be the closest I can come for now. They have asked very few questions through out the telling of my truths. They have heard enough of the fairy stories to believe what I tell them is possible. And there is Gwyllyn's song from Castle Leoch; both Jamie and Murtagh were sitting with me that night. I stand. I will leave to allow them time to speak in private. I walk away from the fire. Out from under the trees and into the open field. I look up to the stars.

I am lying on my back, in the grass, taking one last look at the heavens knowing I will never see a sky as spectacularly inspiring as this one ever again. I think I understand a poet's soul a little better now. How they take every day life and see it through such a different lens, trying to show me, the reader, through words, just what wonders their eyes behold. Jamie comes and lays down in the grass next to me. Not touching. Not speaking. Just being there in this moment with me. Just being. It makes my heart heavy knowing it is going to all be gone before sunrise, this beautiful night sky. Lying here looking at the stars, I admit to myself just how much Jamie has come to mean to me. I don't want to give him up. I can only hope that he want me as well.

I know he and Murtagh have decided to take me to the stones. They have decided to send me back. I could see it in a look they exchanged when I finished my truth. A tear rolls down my face. Looking up into the heavens I say, "It is so beautiful."

I am not watching the stars. I have turned my head and am watching her. I ken she is crying. She kens what I have come to tell her. I must take her back to the stones. Murtagh reluctantly agreed with me. She must go back to her time where she is safe. If I have learned nothing else, I have learned I cannot protect her. She is different. It is what I love about her, part of what attracted me to her from the first moment we met but that same strangeness makes others fear her. Someone will kill her if she stays. Dougal will not be the last to try. I can not watch her die. "Aye," I answer. "So beautiful," and I turn to look back up at the stars.

Claire rolls on her side and looks at me. She is resting her head on her hand propped up on a bent elbow. With her other hand she moves my hair off my face, combing it with her long fingers. Her nails gently scratching my scalp. It feels good. I close my eyes and enjoy her touch. I will not have this much longer. I want to remember the feel of her.

Finally, I roll on my side and face her. I ken I shouldn't. I ken I will kiss her if I do. I do'na care. I do'na want this night to end here and now. With so much left unsaid. So much distance between us. We promised each other the truth. She has kept her end of the pledge. I must keep mine.

I reach out with the knuckle of my index finger and catch a falling tear. "I'm verra sorry that the choice I have made makes you cry. You ken what I've come to tell ya then, aye?" I say with sadness in my voice. "Ya must go back to your own time, Claire. It is for your own safety. Because of who and what you are, you will always be special. You do'na fit in, ya stand out like a shining star on a dark night. Murtagh said he ken you were something special when you stood up to Black Jack Randall that first night he found ya at Craig na Dun. He said it was what made him step in and rescue you, the way you fought back. And then again in the cottage when you stood up to Dougal and the rest of the men, to fight for me. Ya were no regular lass then and ya are no regular lass now, even after almost six months among us and the hell my uncles have put you through. Ya have such heart, such spirit. I wish I could make you mine, Sassenach, truly; God kens I love you. There has been something between us since the moment you touched me but you ken that cannot be. Staying here, even with me, would mean the death of you and I can'na allow that to happen. I can'na let ya die when there is a chance in my grasp to save ya. So, that means we will head for Craigh na Dun at first light." I sit up and bring my knees to my chest, rest my forehead on my knees and wrap my arms around my legs. I feel the tears fall down my cheeks. It takes everything I've got not to make a sound. I won't let her ken I am crying at the sorrow of my loss. I ken it's coming...her retort. I brace myself.

I huff and haul myself to my feet. I step toward Jamie and stop when my bare toes met the toes of his boots. I place my hands on my hips and look down at him. I wish I had brought the laudanum; this is going to hurt. "How dare you," I start and kick his shin. He refuses to look at me. A bare foot against the big oaf's booted shin is not much of a match but I kick him again, harder. He won't give me the satisfaction of looking at me. Fine. I will do this whether he looks at me or not. "Don't you dare think you have the right to tell me what I can and cannot do. Ever. Only I get to decide that. You may offer your thoughts and suggestions only. Do I make myself clear Mister MacTavish?" I state emphatically and this time I drive my heel into the top of his foot. That gets his attention. He looks up and I see tears streaming down his face. His face is unveiled.

"Oh, God, Jamie," and I fall to my knees at his feet, take his face in my hands and place my forehead to his. "Why then? I don't understand why you don't let me stay with you?" I wail as tears start to flow down my cheeks as well. We are a mess. "I love you Jamie MacTavish. More than I ever thought possible for one person to feel for another." and I move my thumbs to wipe the tears from his cheek like little windshield wipers.

"Fraser," he whispers interrupting my soliloquy.

"What?" I ask.

"Fraser. It's Fraser not MacTavish. I figure if you are going to be mad and yell at me ya best use my correct name. James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser. That's the whole of it," he says looking me directly in the face.

"What?" I state dumbfounded. "Who the hell are you with a name like that? Are you royalty or something?"

Jamie smiles at that. He lifts his hand, places it under my jaw and closes my mouth for me. "Would'na want you swallow'n any bugs now, Sassenach," he says and laughs. "Royalty, eh? No, no noth'n so grand as all that. Just names is all. Family names."

"Truth," I remind him. "We promised each other honesty. You keep your end of the bargain." I sit back on my heals and take my hands from his face, placing them flat on my thighs. I look him back straight in the eye. When he makes no reply, I fold my arms across my chest, look at him sternly and say, "Out with it. 'Fess up."

"Fess?" He questions.

"Oh don't you dare start that 'talking daft' stuff with me now Mister James, whatever your other bloody names are, Fraser. You'll not change the subject. 'Fess' is short for Confess, or Confession so Out With It. Confess. Honesty and all that..." I smile as I reply but wag my finger at him to make sure he knows I am serious.

"Why then must I send you back? Do I really need to explain..." and the next thing I ken she is leaning against my legs and she is kissing me. Her hands have hold of my ears so I can'na pull away, and she is kissing me HARD. I can not refuse her. I want her too much. My hands go around her head, my fingers tangling in her hair and I finish the kiss with her limp figure draped across my knees sighing.

"Oh, I like it when you talk to me that way," she says all softness in her voice. "Talk to me some more, please." She smiles one of her beautiful smiles. She is a hard woman to say "No" to but...I release her and stand up. I grab her shoulders and haul her to her feet. "No Claire," I state firmly. "This will only lead to you on your back with your skirts up and me inside you. Plain and simple. I ken it is what we both really want but I'll not take you like a common..." and I stop realizing what I almost say. She does too.

"Oh, I see," she says and I see the storm brewing in her eyes. "I'm a common whore now, not good enough for you, is that it?" She thumps me in the chest with her finger. "You cannot have that, a marked whore." I am screaming now. "I am whats I am, Popeye," I add just to unsettle him. "Live with the fact that Your God Damn Uncle Tortured and Raped me for three months. That I have the permanent scares to prove it. Learn to accept That, live with That because I Sure As Hell will have to. And if you cannot then Well, You. Can. Just. Go. To. Hell. Mister. JAMES. Way Too Many Fucking Names. FRASER!" and she turns on her heals and stomps off waving her hands declaring "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ" into the darkness.

I have found the horses. Donas to be exact. He lets me cry in his neck. Ohhh, I am so mad I can not see straight. He loves me. Jamie let his guard down and I could see he truly loves me. As much as I love him. But he is going to send me away because James Fraser can not HAVE a common whore. I HATE HIM. No, that is an untruth and I promised Jamie only truth. I love him with every breath that I take. I hate that what I have become will take him away from me. That because he is not a stable boy or a soldier but someone of value and importance I will never have him. I guess you can not loose what you never had to begin with. The tears just come. I don't even try to hold them back. I slump to the ground and bury my head in my knees and just cry.

I don't hear the footsteps. Donas puts his nose to my head and butts it. I hear him clear his voice. Murtagh kneels down pats my shoulder and says, "There, There Lass. Ya ken the lad loves you, verra much."

"Well, actions speak louder that words. He might say he loves me but he is taking me back to Craig na Dun to send me back to my husband. That does not sound like a man in love to me," I hurl back at him. I hope Mister James Fraser hears me.

"Claire, ya ken he is worried about your safety. He does not want to see you harmed again. The lad feels terrible about what his uncle did and does'na think he can protect you. To prevent ya from being harmed again."

"Murtagh, I think I am suppose to be here. The stones brought me here for a reason. I think I am here for Jamie. That's the only thing that makes sense to me and now Jamie wants to send me away. Well Murtagh, you can just go tell his royal highness that I am not leaving. If he does not want me, just the way I am, well,.. well,.. Well, then that is just his loss." I stutter though the sentence. "If you would be so kind as to drop me off in the next town, please. I am quite sure I can find ready employment as a healer. Don't you worry about me, no sir. I will be just fine without him."

"Talking daft. Good," Murtagh said and smiles. "You are back to just Claire. I told him you would'na be mad with him long. We're good then, aye? Come back to the fire. Jamie's wait'n for ya. Says he won't sleep without ya in his arms." He stands up and holds his hand out to me. I take it, stand up and we walk hand in hand back to the campfire.

True to his word, Jamie is sitting by the fire. He stands up and opens his arms. I look into his eyes and see the veil is still down, his truths are right there for me to see and I walk into his embrace. Jamie grabs a handful of my hair on the back of my head and pulls my head back and my face up.

"Oh good more talking," I say as he presses his lips to mine. I sigh and go weak at the knees.

"Who or what the hell is a Popeye?" he asks as he spoons up close to me and covers us with his plaid. I drift off to sleep with a smile on my face.


	7. Chapter 7 - A Friend

I become aware of my surroundings slowly. Like a dream. So much has happened since this time yesterday. My life has totally changed. Yesterday morning the best I could hope for was a painless death by drowning. Today, thanks to my two warriors, there is hope, love and a new life.

I feel Jamie's warm breath on the back of my neck, his arm holding me tightly around the waist, pressing me to his large, warm, loving body. I wiggle my ass so that it nestles snugly against him. I want as much of my body pressed against his. The more we touch the stronger I feel...like I am using our connection to heal. I sigh. Contentment is the word that comes to mind. Contentment like I have never felt, never known before. Bliss. There is another word that pops into my head. I am beyond happy...

"Sassenach," he whispers to me. "What is on your mind?"

I shift, roll over onto my back and open my eyes. I look into that face, that beautiful face, with the bluest eyes I have ever seen and that tousled mop of red hair everywhere and I realize this is how I want to wake up every morning for the rest of my life. I let out an extremely audible sigh of contentment. This man, that has complete control over my heart, one ups contentment to euphoria by placing his lips on my and pulls me in even closer. Like he is trying to do the same thing I am...become one. This kiss, it is not a demanding kiss but one I will remember forever. It will lay on my lips for a lifetime.

"Frank Sinatra ain't got nuth'n on you, Jamie" I tell him and lift my head enough so our lips meet again. This one has a little more heat to it and I open my mouth for him to explore. My hand goes to the nape of his neck and I start running my fingers through his hair and gently scratching his scalp. I somehow know he likes me doing that. That he wants me to do that. Jamie responds. He gives me a throaty growl and deepens the kiss. This is the man for me, this is...

"Sassenach," Jamie says, slightly perturbed as he breaks off the kiss, lifts his head up and looks into my eyes. "Stop thinking so loud. I am trying to work here, aye?" and continues right were he left off. This time he slips his hand down and gives my ass a gentle squeeze. I grabbed his cock yesterday, I guess he can grab my ass today. I smile and...

"Sassenach..."

Light is just breaking; it's not quite dawn yet. I stop thinking.

Dawn. Something's wrong. I cannot quite put my finger on it until Jamie comes into view on the other side of the campfire. "Well, no wonder you couldn't put your finger on it Beauchamp," I say out loud to myself and I sit up. "When did you get up? " I ask as I rub my eyes.

"First light," he replies waving two good sized fish in the air. "Caught us breakfast and maybe lunch if Murtagh does not come back soon. I want to put some road between us and Dougal today. Are you up for a long ride, Sassenach?"

"Huh?, yes, sure. I can out ride you any day of the week," waving my hand at him. "Where is Murtagh did you say?" as I scan the campsite for him.

"He left last night right after you started snoring. Took his horse, so my guess is he went in search of a Kittle Hoose."

I turn and look at him. "I do not snore!" and pick up a small stone and throw it at him. He easily catches it and goes right back to preparing the fish. "Sassenach, I promised ya truth, always. Ya snore. No question about it. I still love ya though," he says with a smile on his face.

I stand up and go over to the bushes. My dress is still wet. I turn around and look at Jamie. "That's another thing I am hoping Murtagh brings with back with him. If not, you'll have to wear it, wet, I suppose, until I can work out another solution, aye?"

Right on queue, just as Jamie is pulling the cooked fish from the fire, Murtagh returns. He must have food radar. He looks fairly pleased with himself. He ties his horse with the other two and walks over to the fire. He pulls out a wrapped paper containing hot, buttery bannocks. "One has blueberries, for you Claire," he says with a smile. "Oh and this is for you too." He hands me the other larger, wrapped package.

"Christmas!" I say as I rip open the paper and find it's a skirt and bodice. A lovely red with little white flowers all over. It has a pretty bit of white lace around the neck and the sleeves. And a new shift. I look up with tears in my eyes. "It's lovely, Murtagh. I think it is the prettiest dress I have ever seen. Thank you." I clutch it to my chest, stand up, walk over to Murtagh and give him a kiss on each cheek. "Thank you so much. It must have cost you. Where did you get the money?"

"Jamie's always been good at cards and he has always shared his wealth," he replies and winks at Jamie. "And speaking of sharing, lets eat, aye?" It is a feast to be sure.

I come out from behind the bushes. Jamie and Murtagh are saddling the two other horses and breaking down camp. They both stop and look at me. Murtagh's face immediately breaks into a smile as he stands with most of his weight on one leg, one arm folded across his chest and the other gently stroking and pulling at his beard. "That'll do," he said. "That'll do nicely."

Jamie, without taking his eyes off me, reached out and backhanded his godfather in the chest. "A whore's dress? That's what you bring her? A whore's dress?" and he turns to look at Murtagh in disbelief.

I thought I looked nice in it. I look down. It fits me like a glove, as my hands smooth the bodice fabric. It is almost like it was made for me. Though it is a little shorter than most of the skirts I have worn since coming here; my ankle are showing. And where I do not mind, clearly others, i.e. Jamie, does. And the neckline, well perhaps a little more of my decolletage is visible, but I thought Jamie might like that. I now grab at the neckline and try to pull it up. I realize that no amount of my tugging at it is going to make it cover any more of my cleavage that it currently does.

When Jamie turns back to look at me, his mouth is still open in shock. My confidence is shattered. I crumb. I had been so proud when I walked out from behind the bush but one look at Jamie's face and I start to cry.

"Oh,,,no, no, no, no, Claire. You look lovely. Beautiful. The dress is perfect on you. Truly. Remember, I swore the truth," he rambles, frantically waving his arms, trying to stop the imminent flood of tears. "You look bonnie, Sassenach. Never more lovely. It's just, well,..." and his hand sort of waves about his chest and then points at mine. "perhaps a piece of lace or something...maybe that would help," he offers. He quickly comes to me, placing his hands on both sides of my face and kisses me. Twice. He then rests his forehead against mine and sighs. "It's just, well, we are trying not to be noticed. And you ARE going to be noticed in this dress, Sassenach," and he sighs again. "Of course I can now see the advantages this dress allows," he says as his finger traces the edge of the neckline. "And you do look verra bonnie in it. It becomes ya," and he lifts his head, kisses my forehead and smiles.

"You cannot have it both ways James...Oh fuck, I'll never remember them all...," I say. "Your choice, Jamie. Do I wear this one or do I go back behind the bush and put the wet one on?" I stand there with my hands on my hips, tapping my foot in the dirt.

"The pretty one you're in, Sassenach. I think it's best that you are dry. We can hang the other one out again tonight when we stop. Eventually it will dry. In the mean time, thanks to Murtagh, you have something clean and dry to wear," Jamie states matter of fact. "Murtagh, are there no underskirts, shoes or leggings?"

"No, it was a new dress, never been worn and the whore, I mean, lady had not had time to purchase any, and did not wish to part with what she had," he finishes with a flourish.

Jamie takes the stock from the bush just behind me and ties my hair back from my face with it. "Ya ken I like your hair down but I think for riding we need to keep it out of your face." He takes the rest of the wet clothes and rolls it altogether in the skirt and walks back to the gray horse and ties it to the back of the saddle. "Come then Claire, lets get you up and see how you do. Dougal's horse is gentle enough for you I think." He bends down, laces he's fingers together and readies himself to help me onto the horse.

Up I go, landing firmly in the saddle. He quickly adjusts the stirrups and tightens the girth then Jamie is up on Donas quick as a flash. Donas looks up at me on the gray and then snaps at the horse with his teeth, making the gray jump sideways. I somehow manage to remain in the saddle. I turn to Jamie and ask, "Does the horse have a name?"

Murtagh and I exchange looks. Murtagh shrugs his shoulders. "Never heard Dougal use one, if it does," Jamie says. You give it a new one. It is your horse now, after all. Just remember it's a lad so don't go name'n him something silly like _Soot or Ink._ Pick the lad a manly name." I look the campsite over one last time. We've put the fire out, kicked the stones into the stream and brushed the area with a branch to cover our tracks. It is the best we can do. I just hope Dougal's men are not following. I turn Donas to the road, ease him into a canter and we continue to make our way South.

We ride for two days. I have found it is best for Claire to ride in the mornings on 'Blue', as Murtagh and I refer to him; I can not bring myself to call the horse 'Blue Cheese' which is the name Claire has given the poor beast. As Murtagh tried to point out, "It is a Scottish horse, who the hell would name it after a Stink'n French Cheese?" But there is no arguing with Claire. In the afternoon she rides with me on Donas; she is not strong enough to ride alone all day yet, and quite honestly, I think Donas is happier when she rides with me as well.. This woman of mine has every man, horses included, within scent of her, ready to do her bidding. I smile. She loves me. She does not have to tell me, I see it in her face and she will be mine.

We stop later than usual on the third day and make camp. We are close to where I want us to be but I don't want Claire to ken. I need to give her a final choice and then, if all goes the way I want, I will take her home to meet my sister Jenny. I have wanted her since that first night at Leoch and have bested each competitor that has come along to steal her from me. I have had help. Auld Alex, Mistress FitzGibbons and Murtagh have all been there for me whenever I have needed them. Tomorrow morning she will decide; it is down to Frank or Me. And Craig na Dun is the last step to making Claire mine. The Dougal business had buggered things up a bit but in the end it has helped Claire focus on what she wants. She says it is me. She does not want to go back to Frank. I believe her but I must put it to one final trial. Then we will be one. I will take her back to Lallybroch, introduce her to Jenny and Ian, and we will be wed. Properly, in a kirk, before a priest. Then I will bed her and she will not be able to walk for days. I will have her totally and completely. Mine.

Claire takes the horses down to the stream to water them and have a quick wash. Murtagh goes off in search of supper and I start the fire and set up camp. We will have stew tonight if Murtagh catches a rabbit. Claire helped a cotter we passed along the road today. He had a festering cut and Claire cleaned, stitched and bandaged it. In payment the man's wife had given us three medium red potatoes, a turnip, one lovely onion, a dozen carrots and six apples. I had teased Claire and told her I could be a man of leisure if she were my wife; her skills as a healer were more profitable than I realized. I made her blush. I must say though, I was none to pleased at the lecherous looks the man was given her; can'na say his wife was na to pleased either. I saw her cuff him on the head as we rode away.

I swear I hear Claire talking. Probably to herself but I decide to check on her anyway. I sent her down there with all three horses and even though Donas likes her, he does seem a bit jealous of Blue, that is if one horse can be jealous of another. As I come to the edge of the gully, I definitely hear 2 different voices; Claire is speaking to someone. The rise is a small one and so Claire sees me immediately and her glass face tells me she is relieved to have me there. I jump down the lip and cross to her in half a dozen steps.

"I thought I'd come down and help you with the horses," I state as I put my right arm protectively around her waist so that I can pull her quickly behind me if I need to. "I see you have made a new friend." I look the man over. He is nothing I need to be too worried about. He is not much in size, but I keep my left hand on my dirk just in case. He is small, hardly five feet tall and a face only his mother could love. Old, like Ned Gowan, older than Christ, older maybe. Certainly older than he appears. And he smells – musty.

"Jamie, this is Master Raymond. Master Raymond this is James MacTavish, one of my two traveling companions. Master Raymond says he is looking for a Claire Fraser. I told him I am Claire but that my last name is Beauchamp." Claire states very calmly and distinctly. "Jamie, Mister MacTavish, she corrects herself, is from around these parts perhaps he might know of a Claire Fraser." She looks me straight in the eye.

"I am afraid I do not know anyone by that name at present," I reply and ask "Is she kin?"

"Why yes, she is like a daughter to me. A long lost daughter. A acquaintance saw her quite recently and said Claire was in desperate need of my help. She is hurt, you see, like you Madonna. Her face has been hit by a man intent on doing her harm. It will not heal well without my attention I fear."

"You are French, sir? A long way from home and yet you travel alone? And on foot?" I question.

"One does the impossible for friends, N'est-ce pas? He replies and raises an eyebrow to Jamie. "You, Madonna, look like you could use my help. I offer a trade. As I am a healer, I offer to help you with your injuries, if you in turn, offer to share your supper and the protection offered by your fire and companions. Your friend here is a warrior, no? As is his companion, I am willing to wager. Do we have an arrangement?"

"We would be honored to share our meager supper and our fire with a friend, if that is who you say you are," Jamie said and made a courtly bow to the man.

"Mais oui, mon ami," Master Raymond said smiling and returning the bow Jamie had proffered.

Jamie took Donas and Murtagh's horse and I led Blue and we all walked back to the campfire. Murtagh was back and had already skinned and gutted the rabbit and I had brought the cooking pot back filled with water. I placed the pot in the fire and took the vegetables back down to the stream to clean them. Master Raymond offered to help me. I could see by the look on Jamie's face he did not like the idea but we were only going to clean the vegetables. We would only be gone a few minutes.

Master Raymond pointed out a few herbs growing near the water that I did not recognize. He told me one I used the root, ground up would make a salve that would numb. And he took a stick, dug it up and handed it to me. The other he picked the leaf and said to look for it in the spring and pick the blue flowers. If I dried them and seeped them like a tea it would help a headache. He was easy to talk to and had a gentle soothing sort of voice. I liked him very much.

"Are you sure your name is not Claire Fraser?" he asked me again as I washed the carrots.

I sat back on my heals and looked at him. "Yes," I said, "I am quite sure my name is not Fraser. Why do you ask?"

"Because Madonna, it should be. Something is terribly wrong. The big red man, his name is Fraser, not MacTavish, no?" and he raised his eyebrow at me in question. "His companion is Fraser as well, yes?"

"Yes, Fraser is my correct last name," Jamie answered and jumped down the bank, leaving Murtagh stand there alone. "Why do you ask?"

"And you have not yet married this woman then?" He states almost rather than asks. "Why? The bones said something was amiss. Something has happened. What?"

He looks from me to Jamie and back to me. "Give me your hands Madonna" and he holds out his own for me to place my hands in his. When I do our hands glow blue and warm to the touch. I jerk my hands back out of his grasp and hold them in front of my face flipping them from palm to the back of my hand and then back. Jamie is immediately at my side.

"What Sassenach? What has happened?" He asks. I look up at Jamie and his forehead is scrunched in confusion.

"Did you see it?" I ask. "Did you see our hands glow blue?" I grab his hand and I can see he feels my hand is warm to the touch, like I have been warming them by the fire and not just cleaning vegetables in the cold water. He turns and looks at Master Raymond.

"Who the hell are you?" Jamie growls threateningly and pulls me behind him, placing himself between me and Master Raymond. I turn and look. Murtagh had drawn his dirk.

Master Raymond quickly stands up and looks like he is ready to run. Jamie clearly scares him. I step around and put myself between Jamie and Master Raymond and place my hand on Jamie's chest. "No, no Jamie. I don't think he is here to hurt us. I think.." and I turn to look at Master Raymond, "I think he is here to help. Geillis said she wished 'Raymond' were here. That he could help me. Is that you? Do you know Geillis Duncan?" I ask.

Master Raymond's eyes open wide, and then he smiles. "Madonna. Everything will be alright. Look" and he nods at my hand on Jamie's chest. The glow is purple. "The Red Man Fraser will Marry the Blue Madonna and Make Purple...The Last of the Lovet Frasers will sit on the throne. Purple. Royalty. It is written. It is a prophesy. Come, let us go back to the fire, start the supper and I will answer all your questions." And Master Raymond turns and walks up the slope and back to the fire with Jamie, Murtagh and I all in tow.

The dinner conversation was not lacking, I will say that. The stew was lovely. Although I could really only drink the broth and eat the over cooked carrots. I had talked too much and my jaw was painful. I did not want to keep taking laudanum. I needed to just stop talking but could not seem to make that work for me. I did know a little sign language but was sure that would be no help as Jamie and Murtagh would not know what I was signing.

Master Raymond, once again offers to go with me to the stream to rinse the dishes off. Jamie, once again, is not pleased. We go anyway and I am sure Jamie will follow. While I am cleaning the dishes Master Raymond starts. "All healers have a blue aura," he starts. "And you Madonna are an old healer. For reasons I can not explain, you have not come into your full 'power' yet. Your hair will have gray when you do." He then says, "Great warriors have a red aura. Your Jamie's is blood red, one of the brightest I have ever seen. Your child will have a purple aura – the red aura combined with the blue. Not all of your children, Madonna, just one will have the purple aura."

He rubs his hands together and says, "Let me help you with your jaw. You are in pain. It does not look like it is healing well." He then places his hand on my injured jaw. I can feel the warmth spread over the side of my face down my neck and into my lymph nodes. I close my eyes and I can picture my body's anatomy and the blue spreading and healing as it moves. "Thats right Madonna. Picture where you are hurt. Guide me to the spots to heal," he says to help me understand what I need to do. To my eye, my nose, my jaw and to my head where the rapist had hit me so many. My neck, where the rapist has tried to break me, like a horse, by strangling the life out of me. I start to sway and then there is Jamie, behind me, lifting me into his lap. Holding me, supporting me as I lean back into his arms and groan. I picture my arm that I was sure he had broken then down to the wrist that was bound and to the fingers that were broken as well. Back up and across my chest and he hovered over a collarbone and then down the other arm stopping at the elbow that had been twisted when the rapist had grabbed me to pull me back. Down my chest pausing at all the scars the rapist carved to the cracked ribs from the times he had punched and kicked me. We check my internal organs and look for bleeding. There I have been lucky. I have escaped damage. He hovers over my cervix. I hear Master Raymond gasp. We see the burns on my inner thighs. I moan. Some injuries will be permanent, I know. My battle scars. He does not linger but moves down each leg stopping at the knee on one and both ankles.

I hear him ask Jamie to roll me on my side so he can access my back. I am like melted butter but he lifts me and somehow I am sitting in his lap facing him with my arms draped over his shoulders. I whisper "I love you" in his ear. "As I do you," he returns. Besides my cervix, I know this is were the rapists has done the most damage. I have never seen what he had done until now. I start to cry because I see the scars, all the damage from the beatings. I bury my head in Jamie's neck. I feel Master Raymond's hand start at my head and the torn scalp from that first night in my surgery in Castle Leoch and pauses at my neck where the rapist found joy in throttling it when he took me from behind. Down my spine and over my ribs again pausing over the scars on my lower back. Again an audible gasp from my healer. My kidneys are good, thank God.

"I need you to turn her one last time Red Man, then I will have done all I can for tonight," my healer says to this man I love. Jamie lifts me and turns me to face my healer and we focus on my cervix. Master Raymond takes my hands in his and we spend several minutes there. Together. Healing. There is a great deal of damage, from anger, from hatred. And then I feel his exhaustion. He is spend.

My love picks me up and carries me back to the fire. I fall asleep in his arms feeling his tears on my face as he holds me, rocking me gentle and telling me his heart in a language I do not understand.


	8. Chapter 8 - The Stones

I wake. It is dark. I know it is Jamie holding me tightly up against him, sharing his warmth. I don't need to look. Three nights and I already know the feel, smell and sound of him in the dark. Like an old married couple, that has spent a lifetime together. Maybe we have and I just don't remember.

My head hurts. My whole body aches; I need to stretch, to move, to walk. My mouth is dry; I need water. I need to think; to replay the events down at the stream. To process fact from fiction. I know my thinking will wake Jamie; he tells me I "think too loud." I try, very slowing to ease out from his grasp, but my movement wakes him from his normal, light, semi-conscious sleep state; Jamie sleeps, basically, 'with one eye open' to coin the phrase. I don't know how he functions on as little sleep as he gets. "Where are ya go'n Sassenach?" he questions groggily. "I need to pee, Jamie. I'll be right back," I tell him reassuringly. "Aye, I'll go with ya," and he starts to rise. "No, no Jamie. I won't go far. There is no need for you to get up," I whisper to him. "You are just as tired as I am, maybe more. Stay and rest. I won't be but a minute and you'll know when I am back." Is a half truth really a lie I wonder as I walk toward the bushes; I was telling the truth about having to pee.

At least I have not disturbed Master Raymond or Murtagh. They are both sound asleep. Neither of them snores.

There is only a quarter moon so I have some trouble seeing as I walk to the stream to wash my hands and get a drink of water. I am crouched at the waters edge, letting my hands just sit in the cold water, letting my mind wander over Master Raymond and his skills. I had only seen Geillis three days ago. There was hardly enough time for the man to get from Paris to here by airplane and car let alone by ship and horse. Perhaps he was already here. Inverness is only a couple of hour's walk from The Stones. Perhaps that is where Master Raymond is staying. Jamie thinks I do not know that we are camped at the base of Craig na Dun. He does not want me to know because of his stupid 'Frank or Jamie final test'. Men.

I move my neck back and forth. It is stiff and sore. I put my hand on my jaw, it is still swollen but does not throb as much as it has in the last several days. It would be nice if I could eat something more solid than a mushy carrot. Jamie devoured my blueberry bannock the other morning when I found it hurt too much to try and bite it. It looked delicious. I had tried putting small pieces in my mouth and then drinking tea but it did not amount to much. I am so hungry for real food. Maybe in the morning I can try some porridge. I know it is a staple for Jamie and Murtagh but it is no favorite of my, but I am desperate, and it may make my stomach feel like it has something of substance in it.

I hear movement behind me. I turn expecting to see Jamie but see it is Master Raymond instead. I smile and say "It's a little late to be out and about. You can not sleep either?"

"No Madonna, I am afraid I agree with your husband, you think too loudly," he says with a smile and takes a seat on the edge of the gully, allowing his legs to dangle like a small child.

I start to reply 'very funny' but then I don't think he is kidding and instead I comment, "You seem to know a lot about Jamie and me. Have we met and I just don't remember?"

"Oui et non, Madonna. We know each other, mon ami, but we have not met," he answers me with a riddle.

I knit my brow on that one. I will puzzle that one out later while we ride to where ever we are headed after my little test, which I bloody will pass. I try another question and ask, "Why do you call me Madonna?" although I do not expect any less vague a reply than I have received with any of my other queries. This question receives a most direct reply.

"Because your aura is blue. The same blue as the cape the Madonna wears in all of her paintings. It is the most beautiful shade of blue, mais oui? As was the cape she wore. The most vibrant blue I have ever beheld." and for some reason I have the feeling Master Raymond has seen The Madonna in the actual cape and knows the truth of the blue color.

"You know Jamie and I are not married. Yet, you reference him as my husband and the children we will have...You even state that we should already be married. I do not understand." I phrase it as clearly as I can, hoping he will answer me.

"First a truth, Madonna. I call you that because that is the name your true mother has given you, not only because of the cape," and he winks at me. "Let me work my magic on your jaw a little more. You are hungry and I was too tired to perform more healing last night. I needed to, how do you say 'recharge my batteries', correct, n'es pas?" He comes to me and as he does he is rubbing his hands together. Before he reaches for my cheek he says, "Would you like to come down now and hold your wife while I work my magic or would you like me to pretend that I do not know you are there?" My healer is wearing the smile to end all smiles; the canary has caught the cat.

I look up and there is Jamie walking toward me with Murtagh up on the edge of the gully on guard. My warriors. Always watching out for me, even when I do not know they are there. I raise my head up and Jamie places a light kiss on my lips, settles in behind me and lifts me into his lap. We are in this together he is telling me, loud and clear. Maybe Master Raymond is correct, we are married. After all, does one really need the piece of paper when hearts and souls are already connected and committed? I smile and shake my head. Older and wiser he is, perhaps. He certainly sees things differently.

Master Raymond places his hand on my jaw and I feel the heat right away. It is soothing and prickly at the same time. The jaw joint feels much better and I open and close my mouth to test it. I won't say it is pain free, but so much better than it was. Master Raymond has moved his hand to where we both know the fractures are and there is the true pain. I see the bone is not healing well. The rapist hit me there enough times that the bone has several fractures which is why it is so painful. Master Raymond has repaired the joint so that movement will be easier now, healing will happen more naturally and I can probably eat with more ease, but the fractures do not seem to be responding to his touch. This can not be a good thing. I raise my hand and lay it on his and it helps but both of us are concerned; our joined connection does not seem to make much difference. Then Jamie's hand is holding mine and something changes immediately; the light I see through my closed eyes is red now, a bright red like fire or that of fresh, oxygenated blood. Master Raymond slips his hand out from mine and sits back on his heals and watches. Jamie and I work together. The heat Jamie creates is killing the infection. I can hear small pops as the infection dies. I lean back into Jamie and nestle my head in the crook of his neck. I slip my hand out from under his and the red disappears. I place my hand back on top and the red comes back and literally heats the whole side of my face. Master Raymond places his hand gently on Jamie's shoulder and the heat reduces from a boil to a simmer. This is crazy, I tell myself. I move our hand back to the jaw joint and oh, how I feel the difference. The heat his hand generates is warming the muscles, bring new blood flowing to the area. I know I will be able to eat breakfast this morning. Oh, thank you Jamie I say to myself. I sigh and Jamie kisses the top of my head and tightens his other arm around my waist. I think he knows how much he has helped.

I open my eyes. Master Raymond is looking slightly uncomfortable. Looking from me to Jamie and his eyes rest on Jamie's. "I am old," he states as a matter of fact. "I have seen many wondrous, merveilleux things. I have never witnessed this." He stands up. "There is more healing I need to do for you Madonna, one of my own making but I need to tell you more of my truths and I think you need to eat before I begin my tale. Come, let me make you something to eat. Something better than porridge."

Brie cheese, a lovely loaf of fresh french bread and pears. "Oh, I have died and gone to heaven," I say and hug my little french savior. "Please tell me you have a bottle of red wine or brandy in that sack of yours," I look at him pleadingly as I gently stuff my second piece of bread in my mouth. I return to sitting in Jamie's lap. I feel like I am in High School with my first boyfriend and can not get enough of holding his hand. Except with Jamie, my whole heart is involved in how I feel and my whole body wants to join with his. I am covered in goosebumps. I close my eyes and sigh. I have to tear off the crust, it is too hard for me to chew, but Jamie does not let it go to waste; I hand feed them to him. I smile as he takes another in his teeth from my hand, and giggle like a school girl. I nestle my head in his neck and watch him chew. Jamie tries to pretend he does not care, but I know he is as content as I am. Jamie takes his small knife and cuts a pear into small bite sized pieces for me and I place a little piece of cheese, on my small piece of bread and top it with a piece of pear. "Ah," I say, "The perfect bite," and I pop the morsel in my mouth. Bliss.

"Sassenach," Jamie starts. "Your face looks more satisfied after that wee bite than you look after any of my kisses. I am about to get verra jealous of a cheese." We all laugh at that, and I lean over and kiss him as well.

Master Raymond opens the bottle of brandy and I am given the honor of the first swallow. I raise the bottle and look around the fire into the faces of three men that have become so very important, in three separate ways, to me and say "to life" or "L'Chaim" as my uncle Lamb would say. The brandy goes down my throat like velvet. I quickly take a second sip and the bottle is passed around the fire.

"Ok, my sweet healer, begin your next truth. We are all ears." And before Jamie can say anything, I correct myself, "I mean we all are waiting with great anticipation," and I mouth 'sorry' to him. "Are you starting with 'my true mother'?" I ask. I want Master Raymond to know I caught that little bomb and want answers.

"You have met me before, Madonna. Do you remember? On your wedding day," Master Raymond begins. Both Jamie and I turn and look at each other and then back to the story teller. "No Madonna, I mean to The Historian, your first husband, Frank Randal, n'cest pas?. The one you were never suppose to marry. The one whose ring you wear," and he points to the gold band on my left ring finger.

I have to look confused. I have no idea what he is talking about.

"I was your waiter, Madonna, at your dinner," he says as he looks at me and raises an eyebrow. "I spilled water on your husband's lap."

"Oh. Oh my God, yes. Of course, now I remember. That was you?" I say a little too excitedly and place my hand over my mouth in surprise. "We were to meet Frank's parents at a restaurant for dinner, when Frank, on a whim, pulled us into a courthouse and we got married by a justice of the peace right then and there. We were terribly late for dinner and he introduced me to his parents as Mrs. Frank Randall. It did not go over very well to say the least. His mother..." I stop and notice no one is smiling or talking. I look at Jamie. He is looking down at the ground. "Damn, Jamie, I'm so sorry," I apologize profusely and I touch his arm. "I was just reminded, that's all. What I felt for Frank, what I thought was love never was. You know I love only you" and I look at him pleading him for forgiveness for my error. "I am truly sorry."

He looks up at me and I see the hurt in his eyes. He must see how upset I am that have hurt him so carelessly. He gives me a small smile and my hand a gentle squeeze. We will talk later, I know.

"You are an old soul Madonna," Master Raymond begins again, trying to break the tension. "You were given to me as an infant to raise until it was time for you to meet your destiny, This Red Man." Master Raymond turns to Jamie and says, "You are young soul, a first time soul and an important soul. You have a great destiny. You are here for a very vital reason," he says with great convection. "You are a great warrior and you will need that strength when you meet your challenges."

"Madonna is your healer. Your White Witch. Made for you. Given to you. To protect you. They recognized you would need a healer with so many enemies at your heals. Dark enemies. Dark magic pursues you. They were not supposed to find you so quickly," Master Raymond states with convection.

Jamie has been holding my hand and looking down at the ground, while Master Raymond speaks. Not allowing anyone to see his face. At the mention of Dark Magic, he looks up, tilts his head and watches My Healer's body movements. Murtagh has straighten his posture and is tense. "What are you saying? That the accidents are more?" Jamie questions. "Do you know who is behind them?"

I look at Jamie. He knows what I want to ask. "The night you first came to me, the night Murtagh found you and brought you to me...," Jamie begins.

"Yes," I reply.

"When we met up with the Red Coat's ambush and I pushed you from the horse into the bushes and you...," Jamie says. "Well, you remember, aye?"

"Yes," I reply.

"Well, remember I was shot?" Jamie adds.

"Yes," I say again, feeling a bit like a broken record.

"Do you remember where the bullet entered and where it exited?" He inquired.

"Yes. The shoulder. The trapezius muscle. Entered the back and exited the front. Why? Is that important? Which muscle was injured is important?" I ask.

Murtagh chimes in, "You were shot from behind, Jamie?"

"So my healer tells me," is Jamie's response.

"Why?" I ask. "Is that important?"

"It is when the only person behind Jamie is his uncle. The red coats were in front of us," Murtagh informs me.

"Oh shit," is all I can say.

"And then there was the ax across the back of the head, aye?" Murtagh reminds Jamie. "Your uncle was with ya then as well, am I right? He's the one that put ya on a boat to your uncle's monastery if I remember correctly. That's why your da sent me to meet ya along with Dougal and his men when you returned; to keep ya safe from harm again. Brian had his suspicions about your mother's kin."

"I'm sorry, what are we saying? Dougal practices dark magic?" I state looking from Jamie to Murtagh and back...and as it comes out of my mouth I add..."Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, I just made a pact with the Devil's right hand lady."

Both Jamie and Murtagh looked at me.

"Well, where did you think I got the knife I used to stab Dougal with? Who'd you think gave me the bracelet?" I asked looking at Jamie. "I mean, you left me with Geillis and were gone quite awhile when you went to get Donas. Part of the deal was that I could not kill 'her lion' and she would make sure Sandringham got 'my fox' his pardon. It should be at your home by the time we get there. Although, I clearly did not know your real name nor where your home was. Geillis said she did though. Oh Jamie," I start and look at his face. The veil is up. He lifts me off his lap and sets me down on the ground, gets up and walks away. His left hands fingers are madly tapping away on his thigh. I look to Murtagh. He shakes his head slightly side to side. No, leave him be he tells me with his face. Let him ponder this, he'll be back. Murtagh got up and walked over and began to saddle the horses.

Master Raymond turns to me and says, "It will be light soon. I will need to leave before dawn. I need to fix something I did many years ago to you Madonna. It will only take a minute." He walks over next to me. "I spilled the water on the Historian for a reason. You were meant for the Red Man. When you were given into my care as an infant I thought I could raise you in Paris. But Louis XIV was hunting my kind. I needed to place you somewhere safe until I could come and get you; until you would no longer be in danger with me." He stops and takes a sip of the brandy and continues. "Quentin Beauchamp and I were friends. I had met him in Egypt many years ago. He had said if I ever needed him to find him so I did. The Stones led me to him. He took me to his brother and sister-in-law. They had always wanted children but had not been able to conceive. They agreed to care for you until I came back. My friend Quentin, your uncle Lambert, said he would watch over you until my return." My healer sighed and took another sip of brandy. He offered the bottle to me and I shook my head 'no'. "Your 'parents' died suddenly and Quentin, when he could not find me, was true to his word and kept you safe. Then I heard word that my friend had died and when I finally found you, it was too late; you had already married the Historian. I could do nothing about the marriage but I could see to it you did not have children with the man. When I spilled the water on him, I used a little slight of hand, a little magic if you will, and made sure you would not carry the man's child." He took a breath and looked me in the eye. He sterilized Frank to prevent me from becoming pregnant. I look at his face, he is not finished. There is more to the story.

You spilled soup on me," I state and a horrible thought enters my head.

"I could not be sure that what I did would work, Madonna. Do not be angry with me. Men are viable for several months after..." he added. "I will undo it now. You and The Red Man are one now, no?"

"Yes, I mean no," I said. "I love him, absolutely. Completely. He loves me, I think he has more than proven that. But we are not married. We are not one, yet. You just threw a lot at him. The rapist has done a lot of damage. I think Jamie will stand by me, but I won't make him. I just made a pack with two people that have tried to kill him more than once. Remember that he has brought me to Craigh na Dun for a reason. I don't want to go, but that does not mean he will let me stay. Do you see the difference?" I sigh and shake my head. Is this ever going to be easy? "Fix me, yes. Repair me," I state emphatically. "I want more than anything to bear Jamie's children. Give me that opportunity. Let me have that. It will make everything else I have been through, worth it."

"For me as well." I turn and see Jamie standing on the edge of camp.

"Are you sure Jamie?" I ask. Trying to keep the pleading from my voice and the hope from my face.

"Aye, Mo Neighan Donn, aye," and Jamie gives me one of his smiles that just melts me to the core. I stand up, hike up my skirt and run to him. I jump into his arms and he catches me. I wrap my legs around his waist and he turns and carries me off toward the trees. We have some 'talking' to do.

We don't have much time when Jamie and I return. Master Raymond waves his magic blue hands and in minutes says what was done has been undone. Murtagh, God love him has saddled all three horses, packed up camp and cleaned up all signs of us having been there. How can you ever thank someone like Murtagh? He is always there for Jamie and I; when we count our blessings, he is at the top. Master Raymond clearly does not like horses but Jamie places him behind me on Blue and we leave for The Stones.

It is close to dawn. There is a gentle light coming over the horizon. We don't have much time. We are not on MacKenzie land but very close to the border and British Troops patrol this area frequently. We tie the horses and make the quick hike up the hill to the Stones and they start their horrible groaning and growling the minute I enter the circle. Master Raymond turns to me and says, "Be well Madonna. Your path is true now. The Red Man is with you forever. I will see you again. Perhaps you will come to Paris, oui?" and he gently kisses my hand.

I remind him, as I hug him, of his promise to find and spill water on Frank again; to undo his magic. I step back next to my 'husband' and hold his hand because I cannot stop touching this man.

He turns to Jamie and says, "She is yours now. Take care of her. She will always take care of you. Your children will be beautiful," and he gives Jamie a formal bow.

He then turns to Murtagh. "You will guard them both Warrior Fraser. You have your work ahead of you." He bows to Murtagh and then reaches into his sack and hands Murtagh the bottle of Brandy. Well, now I know what to get Murtagh for Christmas. I have never seen his smile that big.

Master Raymond turns and without looking back walks to the large split stone, lays his hand on it and disappears.

As we walk back down the rise, I ask, "And where is home 'husband'?"

Jamie turns to me and says "West. To Lallybroch. But first we need to find a priest and something to bind our wrists, aye? I ken Jenny will not be denied a proper wedding but I want you **now** so handfasting will have to do."


	9. Chapter 9 - Handfasting

We turn and walk single file down the path back to where the horses are tied. Jamie leads the way, with me wedged between my two warriors. The same formation used when each of us rides separately, always careful, always guarding me. Jamie stops about half way down, turns around and puts a hand out to stop me. Murtagh nods to Jamie as he passes, and keeps walking. Ok, so they have talked about this….

Jamie grabs both my arms in his hands and pulls me to him. He looks fiercely into my eyes and says, "Are you sure Sassenach? You want to stay? Stay here? With me? In my time?" His eyes searching my face for the answer he is looking for.

Thank God for my glass face. "Yes," I whisper back. "Always. Forever. Yours."

I cannot begin to explain the relief that washes over his face or the sound of the sigh as he draws me in and kisses me lightly on the lips. "Good," is all he says when he releases me, weak at the knees and light headed as his kisses always leave me. He pushes me forward and we continue down the path, mount and ride away.

Handfasting is next on Jamie's agenda. With luck we will find a church with a priest willing to do just that. And Jamie is a lucky man. Just on the edge of the next village we approach is just what we are looking for. While Jamie and I go in to speak to the priest, Murtagh rides into the village for what I assume is to pick up provisions.

The priest is a very small, thin, skittish type with a very flushed face, a runny nose and a cough. He takes one look at Jamie's intimidating size and full armament and my rather low cut red dress, bare feet and general dishevelment and I am sure his imagination goes wild with ideas on why we are there. I totally ignore the priest's judgmental looks and immediately, put my healer's cap on, figuratively speaking, and start to diagnosis the priest's ailments. I pull his lower eyelid down, take a pulse and a quick look down his throat before he even realizes I've touched him. I draw a deep breath to launch into my usually discovery questions when Jamie loudly clears his throat. I immediately drop my hands and stop talking. Poor Jamie, I do try his patience sometimes. I turn to him with a slightly reddened face but do not look up to meet his gaze and say "Sorry. Are you really sure you want me?"

Jamie places his index finger under my chin and lifts my head until our eyes meet. Nope, no question, the man wants me. I smile, walk back to his side, take his hand and keep quiet. The inquiries begin, leading to negotiations and ending with and exchange of coins...one way, from Jamie's sporran to the priest's hand. Done. He will handfast us.

I had always thought that handfasting was the same as getting married, just a less traditional wedding. My good friend from nursing school and her husband were handfasted. She said it was more about their commitment to each other rather than a traditional church service, where it was more about an affirmation to God, at least in their opinion. She said their ceremony had been outside, in an apple orchard in full bloom, and they wrote their own vows. They had worn flowers in their hair and been bare foot. No tuxes and white wedding dresses with veils for them. The priest just presided over the whole event and made it legal.

Jaime says it means we are promised, committed to each other. A trial marriage so to speak and we have a year and a day to actually wed or all bets were off and we could go our own way, 'no harm, no foul' so to speak. He does not know 'engaged' but he uses the word 'pledged' which to me is synonyms. "We will no longer be courting", Jamie says seriously. I had no idea we had been courting but now we are going to be formally engaged by a priest. Makes no difference to me, but it is obvious how important this is to Jamie and Jamie is very important to me.

With near perfect timing Murtagh walks in carrying 6 strips of fabric, for what purpose I will learn shortly. All present and accounted for. At my request, we step outside into the church yard and Jamie and I step up to the priest, who is now standing under the apple tree that shades the area. We are ready.

Jamie grabs my right arm from below and I lay my arm over his and grab it with my hand from above. He looks me in the eye and begins:

" **Mine** – I will love you always" and he takes the red strip of fabric and wraps it around our connected arms.

" **Now** – the purity of my heart and soul are yours and yours alone" and he takes the white strip of fabric and wraps it around our arms.

" **Forever** – you are my joy and my happiness" and he takes the yellow strip of fabric and wraps it around our arms.

" **You are my heart Claire Beauchamp".**

My eyes are welling up with tears and I mouth the words "I love you" to him, clear my throat and begin:

" **Mine** – You are my stability, my strength and I trust you with my life" and I take the blue fabric and wrap it around our arms.

" **Always** – I am yours forever as your friend, your lover and as the mother of your children" and I take the green fabric and wrap it around our arms.

" **Yours** – We are one. United. Magical." and I take the purple fabric and wrap it around our arms, completing the connection.

" **My heart is yours James Fraser".**

Murtagh then clears his throat and says "If ever there were two people meant to be together, 'tis you two. And you have been through hell, excuse me father," he says and looks sheepishly to the ground but continues, "to get here. Long life and happiness to you both." Who'd have thought Murtagh was a poet.

Jamie pulls me close and kisses me, lingeringly, then rests his forehead on mine and sighs.

"Better?" I ask.

"Aye." He replies. "My heart is go'na burst with happiness, Mo Neighan Donn".

Well, you know we ate afterwards, I mean I am traveling with two bottomless pits for men and there was a town tavern after all. Pidgeon Pie and Ale. Could it have been more perfect? My men ate and drank like they hadn't seen food in a week. I ate but Jamie finished mine for me. Mostly I just leaned my head against Jamie's arm, closed my eyes and listened to them talk. Bliss. There was one table that kept glancing at us. Making whispered comments to each other in Gaelic and then laughing and slapping each other on the back. I could only imagine what they were saying. One rather brazen young man from the table came up, sat down on the bench next to Murtagh, across the table from me, set down and pushed a glass of ale at me and smiled, then proceeded to stare lustfully at my exposed cleavage. I could feel Jamie's furry start to build and Murtagh actually stopped eating, though he never set his ale down, and looked from Jamie to me to the lad and back to Jamie. I calmly placed my hand on Jamie's thigh and squeezed it just above the knee. I felt him jump and I patted his thigh. I then set both my hands on the table and pushed the glass of ale back and forth between them. Playing with it like a cat with a mouse. I looked up through my lashes at the lad and said in a wickedly screeching voice, "eye 'tank ya kinly gov'na 'an jus w'ats I gone don ta deserve 'dis?" in the absolute worst Working Class Cockney accent I could muster and smiled. Murtagh just about spit out his beer and turned his head to snicker. I could only imagine Jamie's face. The lad's mouth flopped open and his face fell. He looked longingly at my chest, took back the glass of ale and left. He never said a word. I slipped my hand in Jamie's, leaned my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes. Jamie said absolutely nothing but his shoulders shook so hard from stifled laughter, my head bounced.

When my men could eat no more, we left. As we walked passed the table of young men, I walked over to the brave young lad that had kindly visited me earlier. I placed a hand on his shoulder, leaned over to give him a gander at the goods. I gave him a quick peck on the cheek and in my very best English said, "Thank you, I was more than flattered by your kind offer, but you see, I am terribly fond of the lad I'm handfasted to," smiled, turned and walked out the door Jamie held open for me.


	10. Chapter 10 - Lallybroch

We ride into the front yard of what I guess to be Lallybroch. Chickens scatter and the penned goats start 'maaahing' in greeting to us. Jamie dismounts and leads Donas to the hitching post and ties him there. He raises a hand, full faced to me, telling me to wait there and he takes Blue and ties him to the post as well. There is a sudden flurry of activity by the house. The front door flies open and out comes a woman about my age, maybe a little older, with black hair pinned high up on her head, extremely pregnant and wiping her hands on her apron. A small brown haired boy, follows close behind, holding onto her skirts for dear life. He looks to be about two years old. The woman puts her hand to her forehead, almost like a salute, to shade her eyes from the sun so she can see who had ridden in.

"Jamie!" She screams and comes running down the steps, holding the lads hand so he does not fall since he will not relinquish his hold on her skirt. She practically leaps into Jamie's arms or rather would have if she had not been so heavy with child. She places her hand on his face when they separate and says, "it's good to finally see ya brathair. Did they not have paper and ink where ya were? Not a word in almost four years." And she cuffs him on the ear. She turns and screams "Murtagh, ya auld dog. Come here and give me a hug." Murtagh dismounts and kisses her briefly on the cheek and ruffles the hair on the lads head.

"Oh, wee Jamie," the woman says kneeling down to the boy, "this is your uncle, the one you are named after," and she turns and looks up at Jamie. "Jamie," she says standing and looking him straight in the eye, "this is my son, your name sake…" and the first of several loud volatile arguments ensues. Jamie and Jenny are in each others faces screaming and yelling and waving arms and flapping hands. I have quiet a view from up on Donas where I am safely still perched. The first night at Castle Leoch, while I tended to his shoulder wound, Jamie had told me the story of how Black Jack Randall had raped his sister when the British soldiers had come to pillage Lallybroch while their father had been away. Jamie's efforts to protect Jenny had earned him a one way trip to Fort Williams and two hundred lashes on his back with a 'cat o' nine tails'. He had been freed from Fort Williams by friends and placed on a ship to France where he had met up with a friend, Ian Murray, and they had worked as mercenaries for almost two years.

A pleasant looking man, with the same color hair as the little boy comes through the front entrance we had just ridden through and into the yard while Jamie and Jenny are still going at it pretty strong. He stops, watches and listens as the two sling insults back and forth then looks up at me. He smiled nods his head. As he walks forward I notice he is missing his right leg from just below the knee and has a prosthetic made of wood to replace it. It is wonderfully crafted. Someone has even carved an attached cane on the outside edge that extends up to his hip which allows him more support and easement while walking.

When he reaches Murtagh, he places a hand on Murtagh's shoulder and asks, "So how long have they been going at each other?"

Murtagh replies, "Not long. Neither has killed the other, which is a good sign, aye?"

Ian then walks back to Donas to stand by me, looks up and says, "Hello there. You are quite pretty. My name is Ian Murray. Who might you be?"

"Claire," I say. "Do they always fight like that?" nodding my head in Jamie and Jenny's direction.

"Well, yes and no," Ian replies. "They are brother and sister and love each other fiercely. They have not seen each other in quite awhile and I expect they are working out a few things. Do you ken what this particular discussion is about?"

"Well yes," I answer. "It seems Jamie is worried about Black Jack Randall fathering wee Jamie. Which, as anyone can plainly see, it is quite clear that Black Jack Randall is not little Jamie's father."

"Oh? Really? Quite clear how?" Ian asks. By this time Murtagh has come over and joined us.

"Well, Jenny is dark haired and so is Black Jack Randall." I state matter of factly. "One of wee Jamie's parents would have to have brown hair genes to produce wee Jamie's hair color. Clearly the child's father would have to have hair close to the same color as wee Jamie as we can see Jenny's is black. We are looking for a man with medium brown hair color with perhaps some blonde highlights. Like, say, you perhaps. You would not happen to be wee Jamie's father by any chance, would you?" I simply ask. Not needing to wait for an answer I say, "Jamie," and then nothing more...

Jenny turns her full attention to me, looking as if she had not noticed my presents until I spoke. She looks up at me, still perched on Donas, and stops screaming at Jamie mid sentence. She begins to look me over – from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Her eyes start at my face, linger and take it all in, so much so that I raise my hands to my face to feel for the worms and toads that certainly must be there. Her eyes then rest on my hair and my hands instinctively go there to try and smooth the chaotic birds nest with no luck. I do manage to remove several twigs and leaves while she watches. She clicks her teeth and then proceeds to scan downward until she gets to my bodice's neckline. "Oh shit," I whisper quietly and place an open hand over my well displayed bosom. Her eyes pop back up and our eyes lock. Not good, I think to myself. This is not a good first impression. Jamie will be furious with me. Her eyes narrow and she quickly shoots a look at Jamie then back to me. Starting back at my chest, she makes her way down to my exhibited lower calf and ankle and my extremely dirty and very bare feet. There is no hope. I can see it in her face, I have no hope of winning her over; her face clearly tells me there is no chance in hell I will ever have her brother, even as angry as she is with him at present. She then sees Ian standing next to me and her face softens for a microsecond the returns to staring daggers at me. Well, at least she is no longer mad at Jamie. Maybe.

Ian walks forward with his arm extended and says, "Ya still ken how to make an entrance mo brathair. Is Claire with you then?" he asks. "Bonnie, very bonnie indeed," he comments and smiles.

Jamie says, "Ian," smiles and grabs Ian's shoulder and gives it a shake. "It is wonderful to see ya. Ya've met Claire then have ya? Bonnie, aye that she is". He looks up at me, still smiling, raises his arms and helps me down from Donas. We turn to face Jenny. Jamie puts his arm around me and pulls me in close as I try desperately to smooth my hair and then wipe my sweating palms down the front of my dress, which I just notice is filthy. I grab at the dress's neckline and try desperately to make it cover more of my chest, which of course, it doesn't.

"Jenny," Jamie starts. "I'd like ya to meet Claire. My intended. Claire Beauchamp, I'd like you to meet my sister Janet Fraser Murray". And my wee idiot, Jamie, stands there beaming ear to ear expecting Jenny and I to run into each others arms, kiss, hug, cry and start chattering like we were old school chums. Instead we both stand there, stiffly, just staring at each other. Or rather I stare, Jenny glares.

I start to back up and step behind Jamie, never taking my eyes off Jenny. My hand slips behind his back and I finger for his belt. My fingers find it and slowly grasp it. Tightly.

Ian tries to break the ice by stating, "What were you and Jamie going on about then? Claire says it's about wee Jamie's father."

"Ohhh, Claire says," Jenny mimics Ian. "On a first name basis with the whore then are ya? She works a room fairly quick, I'll say that for her," and she shoots me a really dirty look.

Jamie steps up to Jenny and leans into her face and firmly and with as much control as he can muster says to her, "I'll ask ya to speak civil about Claire. She is to be my wife. 'Don't judge, least ye be judged', Jenny."

Jenny looks like she is about to explode.

"Don't be starting a new stramash when you have not even finished the first one, mo chridhe," Ian says calmly and walks next to Jenny, puts his arm around her and then says to Jamie, "I am wee Jamie's father, as your Claire can plainly tell you," and Ian winks at me. "I am also the father of this bairn and he rubs his wife's belly. Due almost any time now."

"And before you open your mouth, ya dolt of a brathair, we are properly wed," Jenny says. "Almost three years now" and shoots yet another dagger filled glare at Claire.

Jamie smiles one of his big beautiful smiles. Jamie shakes Ian's hand and claps him on the shoulder again. He then turns to Jenny and kicks at the dirt a little. "I am sorry. Truly." he starts. "it's just that I had heard that after Randall had..."

Jenny puts a hand to his mouth to stop him from finishing. "Aye, I clearly understand what you thought. Though why," she stops and glances around the yard and says, "I think we can finish this conversation another time, in a more private place, aye? Why don't we go inside? For refreshments. You look as though you could use a wash and a change of clothes before supper as well. That is, if you have a change of clothes" she adds looking directly at Claire.

Claire, makes a quiet groan and immediately steps completely behind me, grabbing my belt with both hands. Murtagh notices and grabs the saddlebags and hands me Claire's and mine and we head inside. Claire, with a death grip on the back of my belt and her forehead buried in my back, follows right behind me. This is not good.


	11. Chapter 11 - A Day of Stramash

As we entered the main hallway, the servants are lined up to pay their respects to their returning Laird. That would be me. Sadly, my lady, my intended, has her hands gripping my belt from behind and her face buried in my back making soft moaning noises all while dressed in a filthy whores dress, no shoes with twigs and leaves sticking from her hair. The servants will never stop talking about this, I can see it in their faces. I now realize what a mistake I have made. This is totally my fault and could have been prevented if I had only listened. Murtagh had suggested stopping in Broch Mordha for the night. Get cleaned up before arriving at Lallybroch.

"No" I had said. "We will press on and make Lallybroch before supper."

And here we are. Jenny madder than a wet cat at me and won't talk to Claire in a civil tone is all there is to show for my poor judgment. There is nothing I can do but hold my head up and muddle through this one servant at a time. I stop and remove my sword and sheath belt and place it on the table in the hall as is custom. Claire lets out a moan as she has to lift her head away from my back while I slip the strap off. I elect to keep my dirk and it's sheath in order to leave the belt; I don't want to distress Claire any more than I already have and taking off that belt would be a really bad idea right now. Little did I ken that not stopping in Broch Mordha would be the first of a long list of really bad ideas I would have before this days ended.

I walk down the short line of Lallybroch servants; the main house supports about half a dozen between the house, barn, animals and garden. I shake hands with the men, kiss some of the older staff, like Mrs. Crook that have been here since I was a bairn, and nod to the rest. Claire never lets go of my belt and never lifts her head to acknowledge any of them. At least she stops moaning while I talk. I keep walking until Claire and I are safely in the parlor and the door is closed. I walk to the fireplace and raise my arm. Claire comes around and buries her face in my chest and starts to sob. I can do nothing but hold her and stroke her hair. Finally she sighs. I ken she is worn out. What have I done?

I notice the room is silent. With Claire still in my arms I dance her around so that my back is to the fire and I can scan the room. I kiss the top of her head and look around. Murtagh is by the liquor table pouring himself a drink; I can safely guess it's not his first. I motion with my fingers for him to pour me one. I need it. Ian is sitting on the settee just watching Claire and I; our body language answers a great many of his questions, I ken. And Jenny, well, she is a Fraser working out a problem, so she is pacing. When she gets to the door, she stops and turns and her glare bores into Claire's back with such spite I almost want to turn Claire back around so that my body protects her from the look.

"Jenny," I start. "Jenny, you don't understand..." and I am cut off.

"Don't you dare 'Jenny' me, James Fraser," she starts and a new stramash begins or maybe it's an old one being continued. She starts walking toward me. I half turn to protect Claire and hold out my hand at arms length and point my finger at Jenny.

"Don't Jenny!" I say in a commanding tone. "That's enough on the subject for one day. Leave Claire alone. You've had your say. I clearly understand how you feel about My Sassenach." Claire starts to shake in my arms and I wrap one of my arms tightly around her and the other goes to the back of her head, turns her face away from Jenny and holds it against my chest as I begin to rock her. I look back at Jenny one more time and say "Enough!" Jenny stops in her tracks and looks to Ian for support. I look over at Ian as well. He looks from Jenny to me and back to Jenny. He then half turns to look at Murtagh, who is pouring himself another drink.

"I think maybe we could all use a dram or two as well," Ian says. "I think there is a bottle of one of Jared's in the cabinet above your head Murtagh. Why don't we all take a breath here. Relax and celebrate Jamie's return to Lallybroch with his intended and his godfather, aye? We can be cordial enough for that. We are family after all" and he raises an eyebrow a Jenny.

"Aye." is all she says in reply, lowers her glare at Claire and walks over to Murtagh to help with the drinks. When the four of us have one, Claire is quiet but not up to leaving the safety that my arms and chest provides her so does not have a drink, I raise my glass and say, "To Home and Family" and down my drink in one swallow.

'Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in' Claire whispers and nestles back into my chest. At least she has stopped shaking.

"I need another Murtagh," I say. "Would you pour me another?"

Murtagh walks over with the bottle and another glass. He fills mine to the rim and places a hand on Claire's back.

"Claire," He says as gently as I remember him speaking to my mother on her death bed. "Come lass. You are safe among friends and and family," and he turns and shoots Jenny a look. "I have a whiskey for you. Come and drink it. It will fortify you; help you feel better. Then perhaps Jamie can arrange a bath for you. You can get yourself cleaned up before supper, aye? Maybe someone can find you a clean dress to put on as well," and again he shoots Jenny a look.

Claire turns her head to look at Murtagh. And smiles at the mention of a bath. When did my godfather ken about my woman so well? If it was'na Murtagh, I'd be jealous.

Great. Another Stramash between Jenny and I when I tell Mrs. Crook that I want Claire's bath to be set up in the Laird's room; my bedroom. Claire needs a fire and her privacy, I try to explain. To say this upsets Jenny is like saying a storm is a mild breeze. I need to make this happen for Claire's sake. No one needs to see what Dougal has done to her body; she would have to explain and in her delicate condition right now, still healing from some of the damages, well I won't put her through that. The servants need to neither see or ken. It's like my back, only worse. No one here kens what Claire has been through, except Murtagh and I. And until Claire wants them to ken, they will ken nothing. Including Jenny.

I place Claire on the settee near Ian and turn to Jenny and we go at it again.

"I should na have to explain myself. Just make it happen." I say.

"I will'na have it and in our parent house! Father must be turn'n in his grave." Jenny says.

More shouting and arm waving and stomping and name calling until Jenny and I are nose to nose again. Everybody is trying to stop us from killing each other. No one notices Claire is gone; she is no longer sitting on the settee. It is only when wee Jamie pulled on his mam's skirt asking why the lady is sit'n on the floor in the corner that we stop shouting at each other.

"What lady? Where?" she asks as she kneels down to look wee Jamie in the eye.

"Over there," he replies and points by the big chair in the corner of the room.

I turn and notices Claire is no longer seated on the sofa where I left her to press my position with Jenny concerning Claire's bathing arrangements. I walk, following wee Jamie's finger, and find Claire behind the chair, sitting on the floor, curled into a ball, hands over her ears and shaking like a leaf. I look down at her, blow out air out of my lungs, place my hand on the back of my head and close my eyes. I need to calm down. I cannot approach Claire angry. It always scares her when I am upset. I take a couple of deep breaths and then kneel on the floor facing her. I slowly and gently reach out and stroke her nose with my index finger. She raises her head and turns it until her eyes rest on mine. She drops her hands and wraps them around her knees and I place my hand on her jaw.

"I'm so sorry Claire. I should not have yelled," I whisper to her. "Jenny and I just go at each other sometimes. That's the second time today, aye? I forget ya do not ken that. It won't happen again. Come to me," and I sit on the floor near her, lean against the wall and hold open my arms. Claire scoots across the floor the short distance and into my embrace. I spread my legs, pull her in close and wrap my arms around her. I started to rock her using my body to create the movement. I stroke her hair and whisper things to her in Gaelic. I am not really sure who is soothing who at this point. It is like there is no one else in the room but the two of us and we touch and calm each other.

Ian watches and then turns to Jenny and says "I've known you and Jamie since we were wee bairn, and I have never seen Jamie that gentle with anyone or anything, not even a new foal."

No one says a word. Jenny and Ian just stand there. Staring. Jenny, finally breaks the silence. Taking wee Jamie by the hand, she said "lets go find Mrs. Crook and see if she has a bannock for ya. You were such a big help finding the English lady for us. I need to tell Mrs. Crook to set up the English lady's bath in your Uncle Jamie's room. Would you like to ask her for me?" and they leave heading for the kitchen.

When my wife Jenny finally returns, I note that Claire is sitting in the chair by the window with a small dram of whiskey in her hand. When Claire sees Jenny, Claire places the glass on the table next to her and slowing rises from the chair, moves to Jamie and grabs his belt, never taking her eyes off my wife. Jamie and Murtagh are trying to explain something to to me but I am no longer listening. When Claire touches Jamie, Jamie stops mid sentence, turning all of his attention to Claire and her needs. Even Murtagh does it to a certain extent. I shake my head in disbelief. What I am seeing does not make sense but I choose not to say anything to Jamie at this time. That's twice today I have witnessed both men protect Claire. Why is she so fragile I wonder? Then Jamie takes his hand and tucks Claire's hair behind her ear and I see the bruising for the first time. I have never been this close to Claire since their arrival and her hair has always been loose about her face, never up like Jenny's, so her face is covered. Jamie moves his hand to her cheek and I see the marks on her neck. Knife wounds, several of them. And not just nicks, some are fairly deep cuts, and all in various stages of healing. One runs across her throat but up high under her chin so I never noticed it. When Claire raises her hand to place it on top of Jamie's, I notices what look like rope burns on her wrist. Jesus. What has happened to her? No wonder Jamie is so protective of her. Jamie will tell Jenny when he is ready. Or maybe when Claire is ready, aye?

The stramash starts up again when Claire will not let Jamie leave the room when she goes up to take a bath and Jamie supports Claire's decision. Claire absolutely refuses to let Jenny or any of the servants anywhere near her and when Jamie was made to leave the room, Claire hooked her hand in his belt and would not let go. Jamie stays or Claire will not bathe; she will stink and remain in the filthy whores dress my wife absolutely hates looking at by now. The issue is settled with compromise. Jamie ends up sitting in a chair right next to the tub, blindfolded. Jamie's hand must be on the tub at all times. My wife is livid. If Jamie is there then she is not leaving either. Her brothers honor will not be questioned. That is the compromise. Jenny, God love her, tells me Claire would not allow my wife anywhere near her. Jenny was made to sit in a chair by the door. When she started to get up to help Claire with her stays, Claire immediately went to Jamie, who put his arm protectively around Claire while she was in this state of undressed and in no uncertain terms told Jenny if she made a move toward Claire, without Claire's consent, he would remove the blindfold. And then Jamie proceeded to undo Claire's laces for her by feel. The look on Jenny's face when she told me the story that night in bed was of shock and disbelief. That is when Jenny confirmed my suspicions.

When Jenny saw the cuts. She said they were all over Claire's body but the odd ones were the ones on her lower back. Four lines and then a diagonal one over the four, a mark like you would make if you counting in groups of five. Almost two rows of them Jenny said and they were all in various stages of healing. She said some looked like burns on her arms and others on her wrists and ankles looked like she had been bound. And then there was her face...

Someone held Claire against her will, of that I am sure. Bound, beat and tortured her. Who? And why? What part did Jamie and Murtagh play in all of this? Claire is not afraid of either of them so they must have freed or found her. I ken Jamie too well; he would never harm Claire or any woman that way. I need to know if whoever did that to Claire is following them, and might find their way to Lallybroch and my family. Jamie, Murtagh and I would need to have a discussion. Sooner rather than later.

Jenny and I manage civility at dinner, though conversation was scarce and stays on neutral discussion topics. Mostly about how Lallybroch is faring. Jenny had borrowed a cleaner frock for Claire from one of the servants. I will give Jenny the benefit of the doubt on this one, that it is not a personal affront on Claire's character. Claire sits next to me and just sort of pushes her food around on her plate, not eating much and then finally just gave up pretending, sets her folk down and lays her head against my arm. She tries to put her hand on my leg but the ever watchful Jenny clicks her tongue and Claire sighs, removes her hand and places on the table where Jenny can see it.

And just as we are all head to bed for the night, the last stramach is the sleeping arrangements. I am unclear as to where Jamie thought my wife would allow Claire to sleep but I am quite sure Jamie should have ken it was not going to be in the Laird's room with him. We all came up the stairs to the second floor. Jamie, of course was in the Laird's room. Jenny had our things moved out once we ken Jamie was staying. There are four bedrooms on this floor. Murtagh was given the one right next to Jamie. Before Jenny could even say Claire's room would be on the third floor with the servants, which I knew was not going to end well, Jamie opened the door to his room and held it for Claire to enter first.

My wife went loon. And when my wife stops screaming long enough to take a breath, God love him, Jamie tries to explain.

"Jenny, Claire needs me..." was all Jamie got out before my wife was in his face and poking his chest with her finger and then she makes the mistake of grabbing Claire's arm and trying to pull her from her hiding spot behind Jamie. I have never heard a sound like the one that comes out of Claire; a dying animal is all that comes to mind. I never wish to hear it again. We all freeze. No one moves. Claire manages to free herself from Jenny's grip and runs down the stairs, still making that same sound. We hear fumbling with the front door, but the house is locked for the night. Without keys Claire would not be able to open any of the doors and Jenny has the keys. We hear the door to the kitchen open and Claire is now pounding on that outside door. Same thing. Jenny has the key. Then there is quiet. Not a sound. And then the patter of bare feet running across the floors. Various doors opening and closing. Then quiet again.

Jamie shoots Jenny a look and holds out his hand for the keys. Jenny reaches into her skirt pocket and hands them to him. He walks into the Laird's room and almost immediately comes right back out carrying the quilt and pillow from his bed. He walks right passed us. "Good Night Family," Jamie says as he walks down the stairs to the first floor to find Claire.

We find them the next morning, in the parlor on the floor in front of the fire with a quilt covering them. They are fully clothed, except Jamie has removed his boots, socks and jacket. They are sound asleep in each others arms.


	12. Chapter 12 - Jenny and Ian

"Jenny, mo chridhe," Ian crooned. Come, sit here beside me. Tell me what's on your mind. You've been working over something for days now and have not settled it. Come talk to me and we will work it out together. Come away from the window. Leave your brother alone. Quit spying on Jamie and Claire; they are handfasted after all." Ian waved his hand at her and patted the seat next to him on the settee. "Do I need to pour ya a wee dram, then?"

"Don't start sweet talk'n ta me, Ian Alastair Robert MacLeod Murray." Jenny declared as she dropped the curtain and turned to face her husband. She folded her arms across her chest. "You ken as well as I do, Claire and Jamie are not to be trusted alone, especially at night, in the dark. Do not pretend with me that you are not worried what that English whore will do to my brother out there with no chaperon. I ken what she has already done. Set her hooks into him, she has. Got my brother handfasted to her, didn't she? I'm sure she sees herself as the Grand Lady Broch Tuarach. Bad enough she's a prostitute but English ta boot. My poor Mam must be cry'n up in heaven. Jamie can'na see straight for lusting after her. And she lets him, nay encourages him. Teasing about him until he can'na think when she's in same the room with him. Jamie see's nothing but her. Don't think that I was no watch'n your face when **Claire** showed up here in that whore's dress. Cut much too low in the bodice and way too short in the hem. Her breasts and ankles were both show'n and she had no a care about it. Not a single petticoat to her name either. No stockings or shoes, hair all wild about her face. You can'na take his side on this. Bad enough Murtagh does. I do'na care what Jamie says; plain as day, he has brought a whore home. Of all things. A whore live'n at Lallybroch. Father must be turn'in in his grave."

Ian turned to sit sideways on the settee. Jenny was not ready to sit and talk. A Fraser needs room to walk in order to work out serious problems. Pacing room. The carpet had the wear pattern to prove it. He ken that after years of living with Frasers. They all did it. He had learned he just needed to sit long enough for them to work it out in their head then they could get it off their chest. He never could decide which one was more hard headed, Jamie or Jenny. Usually Jenny, but he would never admit to that. She'd get an idea in her head and would not let go. Verra tenacious his wife was. Jamie, you could usually reason with. Na with Jenny. If she was going to change her mind it would be herself that changed it. Frasers had rocks for heads. You could talk yourself blue in the face and never sway them. It made Jenny strong. It made Jenny sure of herself. Gave her confidence, the confidence she needed to keep Lallybroch going when Jamie was arrested and flogged, when her father came home dead to be buried and then when Jamie had to flee to France. She had done it all alone until Jamie sent him back to look after her. That was what, almost three years ago. Jamie had been gone almost four years and Jenny had not a word from him, not a single letter. She kept strong and looked after Lallybroch and the tenants in his absence. It was one of the things he loved about her. His wife was his rock. So if she was going to pace, he best change his vantage point, to better observe Jenny, and moved to sit in the big chair by the fire. It was Brian's chair, Jamie and Jenny's father's. No one sat in it very much out of respect for the man. But it had the best overview of the room and he would need to watch Jenny to gauge her thought progress. Jenny was going to have to work this out.

She would have to come around to Jamie's way of see'n things or Jenny would lose him, maybe for good. If Jenny did not fix this, Claire would leave, when she was healthy, and there was no question that Jamie would leave with her wed or not. Ian would be sorry to see them go. He liked Claire, what little he ken of her and it wasn't because of how bonnie she was in that red dress either. It was clear Claire was good for Jamie; she soften him, smoothed the rough corners he had developed. When they had served as mercenaries together, Jamie had become hard, unfeeling almost. Like he had lost his humanity. With Claire, he seems to have found that part of him again, and Jamie, clearly he was over the moon for her. He'd found the one he wanted, his match. Claire wanted Jamie as well, that much was clear. How much and why were the questions Ian wanted to ken.

Jamie and I had a short talk tonight come'n back from fixing a fence that had broken. Jamie was set on Claire. His heart and soul belonged to her. You could hear it in his voice and see it in his face when he talked about her. You could see it in his eyes when he looked at her. It was clear the moment he helped her down from that big black horse. Ian had been in the big field just outside the front gate and had seen them ride up. They had three horses between them when they rode into the courtyard but Claire was riding double with Jamie. Claire was seated behind Jamie, arms around his waist. Did'na make much sense until you saw them look at each other. Ian did not believe Jenny had noticed, she only saw the dress Claire was wearing and had whispered, "a whore, he's brought home a whore" to me as we had walked into the house. Jamie had tried again to introduced her to us again after we settled down in the parlor and had drinks in hand. You could hear Jenny's displeasure with her icy reply of "English then are ya" when Claire said "Hello" in her proper English voice. Both Jamie and I rolled our eyes; we ken Jenny's mind was made up and we had not even had supper.

"What are your plans then Jamie?" I had asked to try to get the conversation started as we walked back from the field after repairing a fence. Jamie stopped at the fence near the barn, turned and leaned his back against it. Arms folded across his chest.

"Plans concerning what then?" he asked in reply.

I snorted. "Ya ken perfectly well. Claire, Jamie, what are your plans **concerning** Claire? Do you have some kind of arrangement between the two of you?"

"Despite what Jenny thinks, Claire is not a whore. And we are handfasted." Jamie said with a sort of growling inflection to his reply. "I wanted to wait for us to be married at Lallybroch, aye? I wanted you and Jenny to be there." His eyes narrowed a bit as he looked defensively at me.

"Jamie, man, how long have we ken each other? All our lives, aye? I ken what yer think'n before you do. And the reverse. But I don't ken what you're think'n with Claire. The look of her…I ken; she is verra pleasing to look at. All that bonnie brown curly hair and sweet smile. And I ken she reminds you of Yvette, and just to remind ya, ya did not kill her. Remember what the funny little man said. But an English lass? What made you look twice at her? And shy Jamie, she will'na look at me. And to talk, I can'na get her to put two words together for me. Jenny says the same." Ian said as he stood in front of me, look'n directly at my face for answers.

"I can'na explain it," Jamie started. "But it's been since the moment I laid eyes on her and she on me. When she touched me the first time, there was a connection, our eyes locked and, Ian, I just ken she was the one. No one else will do." Jamie shook his head like he was try'n to make sense of it himself. "I told ya Murtagh found her, rescued her from Black Jack Randall and I was wounded and she healed me. We became friends. I wanted more, ya ken, but she was mourning her dead husband. When she disappeared, I went wild look'n for her. Could'na find her anywhere and I looked under every rock, mind ya. Do'na ken what I would'a done without Murtagh. He kept me from going loon.

"And Claire?" Ian asked. "What does Claire have to say for ya?" I see her look at ya. You're the center of her world right now, but she's hurt, aye? What happens when she's well? Did you have an understanding before she went missing?" Ian looked down at his feet and kicked at the fence post. I ken he was only try'n to understand. To help. More than Jenny was try'n to do. My own sister.

"She said she was a recent widow when she came to Castle Leoch. I was waiting my time, out of respect till she was done mourning before I was gon'na ask to court her. I was gon'na ask Uncle Colum, as Claire has no family here. But then she went missing, Ian. Before, she was tending my scratches and bringing me lunches to the stables where I worked and we'd have wonderful conversations – I found myself telling her things only you and Jenny ken and we would take these long walks and eat supper together. We would meet and listen to the music in the great hall. Speak of books and poetry. Just to sit next to her made both my heart and my balls ache for her. Does that make sense? Ian, she's educated, witty, bonnie - bonniest lass I have ever seen, a temper - she'll fight ya fiercely, if she kens she's right, she's a healer, a damn good one too – she calls herself my healer, she's her own person – can think for herself and speaks her mind - she'll tell ya when you're wrong." Jamie stopped talking and smiled.

Ian stopped kicking the post and looked up at me. "You've fallen hard for the lass, Jamie. That's plain listen'n to ya. I don't think there is anything else to say on that subject. But ya did'na answer the question. How does Claire feel about you?"

Now it was Jamie turn to look down at the ground and kick at the grass. "She loves me, I ken so. She says so. Does'na talk about the husband anymore; she took his ring off when we handfasted. Gave it to me. I have it in my sporran. I think she likes me just fine, but then I remember what she has been through and I wonder if it's just because she's so scared and I protect her. But then I remember everything that has happened since I found her, I ken it's only been a week, but I think she truly does love me with all her heart. Lord, I hope she does. I can'na imagine my life without her, Ian. I love her with every breath that I take. It hurts to breathe when she's near and hurts even worse when we are apart. When I hold her in my arms, when she's upset or I'm upset, I feel her calm me while I calm her. I smell her, her lilac and wee herbs, and my racing heart slows. She touches my cheek and I find that my breathing changes to match hers. My heart aches for her when she's not near, when I can'na see her, smell her or feel her. Is it like that for you when you're near Jenny? Is it normal?"

Ian went back to kicking at the post. He finally looked up at Jamie after thinking of how to respond and said, "Ya ken I love your sister with all my heart. And she me. We have a good marriage. A happy one. Love each other and the mmrrgh is good; you can count the kids and more will come, aye? But no. We do not have what you are describe you feel with Claire. God help ya, I hope she feels the same. That would be a verra special thing Jamie. Ya can never let that slip through your fingers, mo brathair. We will have to find out what is in your Claire's heart, aye?" And get Jenny to come around, I said to myself.

We turned and started the last few steps before we were home and Jamie said, while looking at the ground as we walked, "I asked my da once how he knew my mam was the one for him. He said he just ken. And so did my mam. It was at the last MacKenzie Gathering when it was decided Colum was the new Laird. My mam had been promised to another, to strengthen bonds between clans. It would be a loveless union to be sure. My mam was surrounded by suitors as well. Even Murtagh wanted to court my mam, did ya know that? And my da said their eyes locked across the great room and that was it for him, and her. They walked, each from their side and met in the middle. Stayed up all night talking and into the next morning and the next night when she was suppose to be getting to know her intended in the garden, she told the suitor "No thank you" and slipped away with my da and never looked back. That's how it is with Claire and I. Since that first night, I've wanted her. And now I have her. She's mine, Ian. Body and soul. And I am hers. I don't think we could live with out each other anymore."

And with that we turned the corner, and there was Claire, sitting on the steps, twisting a piece of straw in her hands. She looked up, saw Jamie and smiled. I use the word but it was more than a smile...and she stood and opened her arms and he walked into her embrace and there was only the two of them. And suddenly I had the answer to my question. She loved Jamie, Body and Soul. No question. Now, how was I going to explain that to Jenny?


	13. Chapter 13 - Surgery open for business

Today is the first day Claire used the bottom floor of the Tuarach as her surgery; a place to see her patients instead of the front steps of the house. Word of a skilled healer at Lallybroch has traveled fast and some mornings they are lined up outside before breakfast, much to Jenny's chagrin. I decided that the Tuarach would be an ideal place for Claire to see patients; to have a surgery. Ian, Murtagh and I had worked the good part of a week making repairs to it. The Tuarach had been ignored for enough years that it was in need of some repairs, actively starting to lean from it's demise. We had removed and refit stones as well as replaced rotting wood. Claire had spent days with buckets of soap and water cleaning and then re-cleaning the floors, walls and ceiling so she could make it her own space. It gave her something to focus on and look forward to. It helped her forget to fret about Jenny as well, by keeping her busy and out from under Jenny's ever vigilant eye.

The Lallybroch tenants benefited as well. With some 60 tenants, someone was always in need of a healer and Claire went to them when they could not come to her. Little by little the Claire I knew and loved was coming back. At first Murtagh accompanied her when she left Lallybroch as Claire was not use to the area and would become lost and disoriented when she left sight of the house. Her Gaelic was minimal at best and Murtagh was a help with tenants that were nervous with the English Healer, but they soon grew easy in her presence. They had good care. Jenny could not help but notice and hear the good Claire was doing. It was happening in Lallybroch's own yard. The manor itself became a beehive. Jenny was still the queen bee but she had to acknowledge the worker bee Claire was becoming. I could not be more proud of my Sassenach.

"Mornings will be for the patients that come to the surgery and in the afternoons I can make my rounds and see the ones that cannot come to me. I can look for herbs, roots and such on my way. I have my basket and the 'sgian dhu' that you gave me Jamie," Claire said with a little excitement in her voice. "I was thinking I might take Blue with me as well. Some of the tenants live a fair distance and where I might enjoy the walk, riding back might be best if it is late." She looked at me with such love; she ken I would worry if she were not back before dark. I would feel much better if she had Murtagh or myself with her always, but did not press my point. Blue would do for now. We could approach that conversation on a different day. The surgery had been an act of genius on my part.

I made a bench for her and placed it outside the surgery door where people waiting to be seen could sit and hung some shelves inside for her wee herbs. She was verra pleased and I received a kiss of approval when she saw them. Murtagh had managed a mortar and pestle and earned a much coveted kiss on the cheek from Claire as well. Murtagh and I may have to have another discussion about how well he kens My Sassenach. Jenny, pressed by Ian I am sure, had contributed a table, a couple of stools and a pot to boil water over the fire and Claire expressed her gratitude by giving Jenny a beautiful basket one of her patients had given her as payment. It was a great beginning for her surgery. It was family that made it happen for her, people that cared very much for Claire. Maybe Jenny is coming around. At least she can'na be displeased as it will help our tenants, our extended Lallybroch family.

I stopped by on the way back from the fields yesterday to see if she needed help with anything. She was on her hands and knees, with her skirts kilted up, scrubbing the floor. She had her back to the door. Her lovely, round arse was up in the air swinging as she scrubbed. I had stood there hypnotized by its gentle sway; it had given me such a cockstand just watching her. I could sense she ken I was there though she never turned and acknowledged me. She just kept cleaning the same spot while I stood there, staring. Ian had come up behind me and put his hand on my shoulder. I looked down and shuffled my foot in shame having been caught gawking at Claire like I was a lad of fourteen seeing his first bare breast. Ian rubbed my shoulder and said, "Aye, she is a bonnie lass, Jamie. I ken what you see in her, I do. She looks at you the same way sometimes when she thinks no one is looking. She is still scared though, especially of men she does'na ken and of Jenny to be sure. I don't think Jenny realizes she's English, Claire has spoken so little in her presence," and he smiles at his wee joke.

"She hides her wariness from most but we, her family, ken her better than the others, aye? This thing that you've done for her," he said as his eyes roamed the repaired Tuarach, "this might be just what our Claire needs. It might just be the missing piece that makes her whole again Jamie. Helping people might just help her. And seeing her whole might help Jenny see her as something beside the whore who is after her wee brathair," and he elbows me in the side.

Ian, with his arm still around my shoulder, turns me from my view of Claire and points us in the direction of the house. We start to walk. "She loves you, ya ken." Ian begins. "For you, for your heart. Claire says she fell in love with Jamie MacTavish, stable lad at Castle Leoch. Said she ken nothing about your being a Laird. I'm not even sure she kens what a Laird is." He raises an eyebrow when he says the name MacTavish along with a smile.

"She is my heart Ian," I start. "Claire is stronger every day. More independent, more spirited and alive. I rode and spoke to Father McMahon. He has started added us to the bans last Sunday. Two more and we can wed. I am counting the days Ian. It is finally going to happen. Claire will be my wife in less that a fortnight."

Ian smiled and gave my shoulder a good shake. He was pleased for me. It showed easily on his face. But his thoughts were elsewhere.

"Jamie, ya ken there are no real secrets between an husband and a wife, aye? At least in a good marriage." Ian starts. I ken he has something on his chest he wants to tell, he's been trying all day to say it, start'n then stop'n or changing the subject; he's definitely been around Fraser's too long. So I say nothing letting him walk and think through what he wants to say and how he want to say it, to tell me. "Jenny has told me about the marks on Claire's body. I already ken there was some harm done to Claire before Jenny even said anything."

I look at him with a knitted brow... I never said anything, I ken Claire or Murtagh had'na told Ian either.

"When you, Murtagh and I were speaking, while Jenny was arranging Claire's bath, Claire came to you and I could see the rope marks on her wrists, the cuts on her neck and when you moved her hair, the bruises on her face...I ken, aye? You did not have to tell me."

"Aye," I say, and nodded in acknowledgment. The quiet ones are always watchful; I had forgotten that lesson, taught to me by my da all those years ago. Ian kens because he observes and listens. I had forgotten just how canny Ian really was, I'd been away so long.

"Weel, I ken you, or Claire, will tell Jenny and I about it when Claire feels the time is right. It's just that..." and Ian lifts his gaze from the ground to my face with a helpless look on his face.

"Out with it man," I say, a little more firmly than I should have. "You've been fretting over something all day and cannot seem to get it out of your mouth. Out with it. I can'na answer until I ken the problem, aye?"

"I need to know if whoever did that to Claire, will come here to Lallybroch. To try and get her back or more. I'm not pressuring you to tell me who or how you came to find her and if you stole her away or anything more specific. I just need to ken if my family is safe, ya see? I need to be prepared." Ian finally blurts it out so quickly it almost sounds like one verra long sentence. He looked back down at the dirt.

"Ian, mo brathair," I start with understanding in my voice. "It is not my tale to share or I would, with you . When Claire is ready, you and Jenny will ken, that I promise. And soon. Verra, Verra soon. Claire, Murtagh and I all agree you should ken what happened. I ken that you understand that Claire is not a whore and I can'na thank ya enough for believing that. I do'na think Claire would stay if both you and Jenny had been against her. I will say there is a chance that the person responsible for hurting Claire may come to try to take her back but I think that it is not likely. I think we are safe at Lallybroch, on Fraser land. That is why we came. I would not bring trouble to your door, a charaid. I do not think you need to worry."

Ian places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle shake. He walks to the table, already prepared with clean, warm water, soap and towels, rolls up his sleeves and starts to wash up for supper. I told him what he wanted to hear though neither Murtagh or I are convinced that we have seen the last of Dougal MacKenzie.

Jenny had acquired the use of the servant's dress for Claire the first night but we needed to return it to her. The very next day Claire tried to repair the green dress. I love Claire, truly, and she is my wee force of nature but Claire will never be much of a cook and certainly never be a seamstress. She can sew a body back together like a fiend and the stitches are a work of beauty but she can'na even sew a button on my shirt, let alone repair a badly torn dress. So when I say she repaired it, I mean she only made it slightly worse and certainly no improvements; Murtagh did a better job. You could tell the dress brought back bad memories and made Claire feel sad just to be in it.

When I rode to Broch Mordha to speak to Father McMahon about Claire and I being wed, both Murtagh and Claire accompanied me. We went to the local seamstress and a used brown dress was purchased and adjusted to fit Claire. We took the green one with us to see if any alterations could be made to make it wearable again. The seamstress said she would rework the green dress into one that could be worn again; she would turn the dress into a skirt and make new bodice from some different fabric; it would not resemble the dress Claire knew. We had two new shifts and petticoats made as well. We could pick the dresses up the following day. Claire insisted we use her gold wedding band as payment. She was truly trying to leave the past behind her.

We found some short boots and leggings at the cobblers. Claire seem pleased and relieved. Maybe Jenny would refrain from criticizing Claire or at least reduce the amount of attacking she did.

The brown dress made Claire seem more confident when she started wearing it. Like she felt like she had some worth. She had a pretty new dress so she started taking care of herself a little more. She would tidy up before coming to dinner. She would brush her hair; remove the pieces of twigs, leaves, grass and hay that would come to rest in that beautiful nest of brown curls during the work of the day. She had even started wearing bits of ribbons in it; wee Jamie had started that. He had been playing with Claire's hair after dinner one night and had finished it by tying it back with a ribbon he'd found. Ian, Murtagh and I had each commented on how pretty she looked and she has worn one in her hair almost every night since. The healing power of a child; there is nothing like it.

Jenny's disapproval still weighed heavily on Claire. She did not feel we should wed with Jenny so set against her. She did not want to drive the wedge that was so obvious between Jenny and I any further and she had no idea how to fix it. She respected Jenny's wishes for the most part. Claire did not fight the fact that we would not sleep beside each other again until we were wed. She might not like it but she understood and accepted it, for my sake I think. Every night Jenny would watch Claire climb the stairs to the third floor and listen for the bedroom door to open and then close. I ken the nights Claire had a bad dream and needed me. Those mornings I would wake, dress and open my door to find Claire wrapped in a quilt, asleep on the floor outside my room. Her hand pressed flat against my door in an effort to be closer to me. Claire would not budge from my door until I opened it and came out; when our eye met and we kissed, Claire's fears would leave and not a moment sooner. Jenny would sit in the window seat at the end of the hall and watch this ritual, this routine, our need for each other. Seething. It would infuriate Jenny, almost drove her daft.

Jenny would not hear talk of us being handfasted. She refused to recognize it or acknowledge it. Jenny started what Claire referred to as the 'bachelorette parade'. Every single lass of marriageable age, on Fraser land or even as far as Broch Mordha, had somehow managed to come by the house and inevitably be invited to stay for supper. Murtagh and Ian would just sit there and smile at me through the entire meal as I wiggled in my discomfort. Jenny always made sure our unwed guest sat right next to me too. At first she tried seating Murtagh on the other side. Murtagh was on what Claire called "Team Claire" and would sit next to me until Claire came in for supper and then he would move over one chair so that Claire could sit next to me. I won't describe the fury in Jenny's eyes; suffice it to say she was a storm brewing. She tried to get Ian to sit next to me once but he flatly refused to participate in Jenny's futile matchmaking schemes and winked at Claire. Once Jenny took the other seat next to me but Claire just sat across from me and we wrapped our feet around each other and just stared into each others eyes. I don't even remember that lass's name. Ian and Murtagh sat on either side of Claire and we had a marvelous time; whitty banter flying back and forth across the table between the four of us.

Jenny always volunteered me to see them safely home as well. Twice, stupidly, Jenny had Rabbie saddle Donas so when I escorted them home I would have to ride double, with the 'bachelorette' and leave Claire behind. Instead Claire and I would walk hand in hand as we escorted each lass home. Donas walked behind us, "like a dog on a leash," Claire said, with the nights 'bachelorette' safely up in the saddle. Then Claire and I would ride double back. Twice, then Jenny stopped having Donas saddled. Claire and I could walk home she said.

When that did not separate us, Jenny started working the reverse. When I'd come back from the fields there would be a line of single, eligible men outside Claire's surgery. Some were not even sick or injured. Their ages ranged from 14 to 60. Some of the "injured" patients had been thoughtful enough to gather posies to give her. The first time, I was walking back from the fields with Ian and Murtagh, we passed the barn and there was a line to see the healer. All men. There were half a dozen of them, none of whom looked sick or injured to me, two even carrying flowers in their hands. I came to a complete stop when Claire walked out in that red dress and Ian and Murtagh elbowed each other and laughed like they were 10. That red dress had been missing since the night we arrived at Lallybroch when Claire took it off to bathe. Seems Claire's other two dresses were still wet from being washed. Damn Jenny. After that I would just walk up and shoo them all away. Claire would come out the door and I would be the only one sitting on the bench waiting to be seen. It would make her smile and those nights we would walk down to the mill and dangle our feet in the cool water or I'd lay my plaid down and we'd look up at the stars and just hold hands. We'd get back so late, everyone would be in bed and we'd sneak into the kitchen and drink ale and make toast over the banked fire and fall asleep on the floor in each others arms. I had that red dress all to myself.

Jenny never gave up trying, and that kept things interesting for Claire and I. And made for several verra funny moments. Claire and I were sure of each other; Jenny could not change that. The second bands had been read yesterday.

Claire and I decided to just finally give up winning Jenny over. She would just have to accept us. The only way to do that Claire said was to just go ahead and get married.

"Let the chips fall where they may" Claire said.

"How important is Lallybroch to you?" she asked one night as we were star gazing waiting for the bans to have been read three weeks in a row so that we could be wed.

"It is my home, if that is what you are ask'n, Sassenach," was my reply. "My da built it for my mam. It was to be Willie's, until he died. Now it is mine and it will belong to our children, Claire. Why do you ask?"

"Well, the way I see it we don't have too many options. We can keep going the way we are, and it is obvious we will never win Jenny over and we will never be married and we will never have any children." She sighed and took a deep breath. "Or we can defy her and get married anyway. And again she sighed. Then you would have to decide which of us moves out of Lallybroch. I cannot live here as Lady Broch Tuarach and have Jenny treat me the way she does. So either Jenny and Ian stay or Jenny and Ian go and then you might lose the last family member you have left. Well, actually just Jenny would have to leave, Ian can stay." She smiled at her joke and she sighed at the futility of it all yet again.

"Any thoughts Milord Broch Tuarach? Bit of a rock and a hard place, isn't it?," she asked even though she already ken my answer. "Still want to marry me or are one of the 'single bachelorettes' looking pretty good now? The lovely Miss Beitiris McLeod has been to dinner three times now. She's obviously Jenny's choice. Thank God Jenny does not know about Laoghaire, Jamie, because then I would have to scratch your sister's eyes out." I said in all seriousness. The last of the bands was to be read this Sunday, then a week and we would be wed. Come hell or high Jenny, Claire's surname will be Fraser.


	14. Chapter 14 - Jenny

I am in the Laird's room cleaning up after a day in the fields. I have already taken my shirt is off. I had washed most of the grim off outside but I needed to do a better job on my face and change my shirt for supper. I will see Claire. I have not seen her all day. I am eager to find out how her day has gone.

The door opens. Claire walks in carrying her healers box, a pitcher with hot water and a bucket containing , towels, a bar of soap, Ian's razor and a bottle of whiskey. She looks me in the eye and smiles. A beautiful Claire smile. She starts to close the door but I shake my head 'No'. She looks down at the floor and blushes a little. She looks so bonnie in her new brown dress and a ribbon in her hair. She breaks my heart. She walks to my side and checks the sword wound, looks up and smiles. All healed, and she is happy. She just needs to remove the stitches. Finally. They have been itching for days. She pours hot water from the pitcher into the bowl and washes her hands. She throws the water out the window and pours more hot water into the bowl and places a towel in it to soak. She takes the scissors from her healer's box and carefully snips each stitch and when they are all cut, she gently lays the warm, wet towel over them for a moment to soften and remove bits of dried blood that are around the stitches. She gently wipes the area with the whiskey she brought and begins to remove the stitches by grabbing the knot and tugging it with theses things she calls 'pliers'. Two of the stitches will not come out.

"They're stuck," Claire says "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ."

She has to work at removing them by re-wetting and tugging until they are out as well. When she has removed them all, she reapplies perfectly good whiskey on the wound again. It burns and I give her a sharp look. She hands me the bottle of whiskey as a reward and I take a long drink and place the bottle on the table. She wipes her scissors and pliers and returns them to her wee box.

She then places a towel over my shoulders. She moves so she is in front of me on the other side of the table. She motions for me to lean my head over the bowl and pours water over my head and starts to lather it with the soap. Oh, that does feel good. I cannot remember the last time someone washed my hair for me. Her fingers are strong and massage my head. I put my hands on the table on either side of the bowl and relax. Her fingernails lightly scratch my scalp. I moan just a little. Heaven. She places a small wet rag on my face and places one of my hands on it to hold it there. She pours the warm water slowly to rinse the soap off. I sigh. With one hand, she takes the rag from my face and with the other, holds my head in place. She walks around beside me and starts to clean the back of my neck, ears and side of my face. She walks to the other side and does the same thing. Claire places a towel on the top of my head while she brings a chair over and motions for me to sit. I do. She dries my hair off and places the damp towel back on my shoulders. She takes the bowl to the window and dumps the dirty water. She then re-wets the rag in fresh hot water, tips my head back and places it over my face. I am confused by this but I don't remove it. This is Claire, I do not question her as a Healer. Also, I ken she will slap my hand if I try. I will wait and see what she has in mind. She combs my hair out, which, since I can'na remember the last time I have done it, takes Claire some time. Finally she is done pulling and tugging, I feel her pull it back into a tail and tie it, with what I am sure is a ribbon. Women like their men to wear ribbons, I ken not why. I will please her and allow the ribbon to stay.

She removes the warm towel and wipes the front of my face. I notice she no longer has a her ribbon in her hair. Must be the one she has tied in mine. She then lathers her hands and places the soap on my whiskers. I knit my brow and look her in the eye. She opens the blade Ian uses to shave with and holding my head in place, starts to shave me. I have always shaved my own whiskers. I am concerned but Claire is careful, steady and fast. She has done this before. Maybe Frank? I wonder but do not wish to ruin this moment so I do not ask. In no time she is done, takes the wet towel and wipes my face. She steps backwards, toward the door, to allow me to get up.

As I stand, my hand feels my face; she has shaved me smooth. I am pleased and I allow it show on my face. Claire steps forward and I place my hands on her waist. She is such a wee thing. She had lost so much weight while she was missing. The first time I lifted her up on Donas, I placed my hands on her waist and my thumbs met in the front and my fingers met in the back. She is starting to put some of the weight back on. Now, as I place my hands on her waist none of my fingers or thumbs touch, they are close but they no longer touch. I smile. She lifts her head and offers me her mouth and as I bend to kiss her... there is Jenny in the doorway watching.

How long Jenny has been there, I can'na say, but clearly long enough to know what I have allowed Claire to do. I ken that by the expression on her face. Jenny has no way of knowing that Claire, as a healer, has seen me without my shirt on before. That Claire has cleaned my wounds, touched and handled my body enough that I am comfortable with her doing so. I am not intimidated by Claire's closeness and she has no shyness with me, especially as my healer. I can clearly see Jenny does not understand. I do not care. I bend my head and kiss Claire, softly at first so Claire knows I will stop if she needs me to and when she presses into me, the kiss deepens and my hand comes up to the back of her head to hold her there. My fingers intertwine in her hair and I kiss her long and hard. Because Claire wants me to. Because I need to. Because I want to.

"James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser" Jenny's voice booms. "I will have a word with you, now. In private."

Claire squeaks and ducks behind me. Damn Jenny. We were so close; Claire is almost back, I can feel it.

Down into my father's study we go. Jenny stomping down the stairs and me, like a lad of 11 following her, with my head down. I ken there would be an arse whip'n at the end of this, if it had been my father I was follow'n. I smile at the thought.

"Let me begin first, Jenny. Please. Let me explain." I almost ask permission rather than demand it. Once an older sister, always an older sister, I guess.

Jenny closes the door, folds her arms across her chest and just nods her head. She does not even sit down.

I understand Jenny's concerns. I take a deep breath and begin. "Jenny, I allow Claire certain liberties with my body, decorum and polite society says I should'na. I make exceptions, na allowances, because she is my healer. She needs to have full access to the areas she needs to repair. If that means taking my shirt off so she can stitch a wound, then that is what I do. Trust and believe, with me, there has been plenty for Claire to take care of." I pause to look out the window. I see Claire crossing the yard to her surgery. I love to watch Claire walk, preferably away from me, that lovely arse in motion... She meets with Ian coming back from the barn. They stop and have a short conversation, at the start of which Ian's gaze goes to the upstairs of the house. At the end of the conversation, Ian looks directly at me in the window, smiles, nods his head and moves toward the house.

Jenny sits down, clears her throat and begins, "That's all well and good Jamie, but what I just saw..." Her finger is pointed upward.

I hold up my hand and stop her. "Let me finish, please, Jenny." I state firmly but with softness. I do not want this to turn into yet another stramash. "Sometimes wounds are visible because they are physical. Others are not; they are internal or emotional. This is why Claire allows or gives me certain liberties with her. Claire says I am her healer, that she needs me. Some of her wounds are visible, yes, as you have seen, but most of her damage is inside, and the scars on the outside reminder her of what has happened and who did this to her. The person that carved those wounds has left Claire damaged on the inside, Jenny. Terribly damaged." The visible ones, Claire had been tending herself as best she can, or has allowed Jenny to help her when she has to, since we arrived at Lallybroch. On the road I had administered the care with the help of Geillis and Master Raymond. It's the wounds on the inside that are giving Claire the most difficulty and she needs me the most to help her with those.

"As Claire's healer, my work is to let her ken she still has value. The best way I can help her, to prove to her she has worth, is to show her how much I love and need her as she is. Do you understand, Jenny?"

There is a knock on the door. Jenny gets up to answer it. She opens the door, there is an exchange of whispers and she admits Ian.

Ian smiles at me and but addresses Jenny directly, "I found Claire outside heading for her surgery. She thought perhaps I might be of some help in here. Mediating, I believe is the word she used. Do you mind if I sit quietly in the corner and do that, Jenny?" Ian turns to me and asks, "Do you ken how I am suppose to 'mediating'?"

I shake my head 'No' but tell him to stay and take a seat anyway.

Ian takes the seat next to Jenny, moving it close so their legs touch, take her hand between his two and sets them on his knee. He gives it a gentle squeeze and I start again.

"Claire is struggling to find herself right now Jenny, to find her courage and strength again; her tenacity. As I've stated, she needs to believe she has worth and value again, all of that was taken from her. We take long walks at night together or find a quiet place to for her to sit and just be herself. I hold her hand, we watch the stars or to just talk; these thing I do, because I want to, because I enjoy her company but also because they help her." I state in an effort to help Jenny understand.

"Ian, Murtagh and I agree that the surgery is helping. Helping others is helping Claire. She is stronger now. More confident. You must ken that. But with every three or four days of moving forward, you come along and scare her and we loose days of progress and it takes several days for Claire to find her courage again. Do you understand how important you are here, Jenny? She is surrounded by men, who love her but what she needs is a woman to help her though some of this, Jenny. I was hope'n it would be you, mo chridhe." I finish with a sigh.

Jenny removes her hand from Ian's two, stands and starts to pace. Ian and I glace at each other and Ian shrugs his shoulders. Neither of us ken what Jenny is working up the courage to say.

"I ken I can no ask for details. You will tell me Claire's tale when ya are ready, I suppose. But how long have ya been on the road? There are no fresh wounds; none I saw the day you arrived. So either the damage was done in the past or ya have been on the road long enough for them to have had at least some healing. Aye?"

Jamie nodded his head in affirmation.

"Weel, are ya gon'na tell me how long ya were on the road then? How long did ya travel with Claire? How long has she been riding with ya?" Jenny gently demanded.

"A week," Jamie replied. "We were on the road a week." He ken what was coming next and he sat down on the edge of his fathers desk, gripping the edge with both hands.

"One week, Seven days?" Jenny clarifies. "You, Murtagh and Claire on the road for a week. Sleeping where exactly? One room and you two daftys shared her or did she at least have her own room to service ya one at a time? And where did she get a horse? She left her petticoats and shoes behind but she remembered her horse, did she? That explains why you and Murtagh are all sweet as honey when she is in the room, tripping over each other to be nice to her. The whore has you both by the bollocks. She's no idiot, I'll say that for her." Jenny starts to pace again.

I am trying hard to keep my head. Trying very hard not to yell. I am verra angry with Jenny. This is not fair. Jenny is not even trying. I give it another go, for Claire's sake. "Jenny, Claire is not a whore. Please, do not refer to her as one again or this conversation will turn into yet another stramash." and I hurumph and snort.

Jenny stops, turns and raises an eyebrow at me, but does not call Claire a whore.

"We found Claire. She went missing from Castle Leoch during the Gathering. She was Uncle Colum's healer and she mended my wounds as well. I was serious about her, Jenny. I was going to ask Uncle Colum for permission to court her. She is an English Lady, Jenny. I promise ya. She is a person of worth. Of merritt. Of value. Ya'd see that if ya gave Claire a chance. Then someone took her from the Castle during the Gathering.. I was looking for her, everywhere. Murtagh and I found her and freed her from the person who had her. Rescued her. She decided to come with us. She stole the man's horse. You've seen the marks. You ken what he's done to her. You think we should have left her? It took a week of hard riding to get here. We camped. Not wanting to stay in towns or Inns. Where, if they were following, they could not track us. Claire and I want to wed. I'm the one that insisted we wait to wed here at Lallybroch. At my home. With my family. That's why Claire and I handfasted. I ken you'd be upset. I wanted you to ken we are serious about each other. That we have done nothing to be ashamed of." I looked at Jenny with complete honesty, and held my breath.

She completed two more turns about the room, then stopped directly in front of me. If I put out my arm, I could touch her shoulder, but I didn't. She folded her arms across her chest again, took a deep breath and said the two words besides whore I did not want to hear Jenny utter ever again, 'Red Dress'. "What about the Red Dress," Jenny wanted to ken. "Why was Claire, an English Lady, wearing a whore's dress then? No petticoats. No shoes."

I threw my hands up in the air and walked to the window. I placed my hands against the window jam, my forehead against the pane and closed my eyes. I shut Jenny out of my head.

Jenny then turned and said, "Who took care of Claire's wounds? I ken she could reach some...but the ones on her back? How does she ken what they look like? Jamie?"

All I can do is bang my head against the glass.

Jenny wiped the front of her dress smooth and checked her hair with her hands. She walks to me, places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it then turns and leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

Nothing. Total silence. Not a word or sound is made.

"Ya have not asked for my opinion but as I am 'mediating' I'm going to have my way and give it to ya anyway, brathair." Ian said. "Get married. As fast as ya can. Claire and Jenny will settle things then, aye? They will have to. They both love ya and neither of them will give you up. They will compromise." He smiled, stood and followed his wife.

If Claire needs me to touch her, caress, hold or kiss her, to help her find herself again, then so be it, though it is not like I mind. I will keep myself in check. I know what I can and should not do. I will not shame my home or family. But I will have my Sassenach back. I will help Claire find me, return to me. With or without Jenny's help.


	15. Chapter 15 -- The Wedding

I was late. I ken they were all outside waiting for me. But nothing was going right. I wanted this to be perfect. For Claire. For her to ken I was serious, that I truly loved her and that this was what my heart wanted. This was the only time I would wed. I the woman of my dreams would be my wife before days end. I wanted this to be right. I wanted to make my parents proud. And so far everything was going wrong. I had cleaned my running stag broach last night, my sword and my dirk as well; polished until they gleamed. I cleaned my leather belts but had totally forgotten to clean my boots. I had to clean them this morning before breakfast. Jenny had found my Fraser plaid and aired it out but found a stain this morning when I came down for breakfast so she had poor Mrs. Crook cleaning it. At breakfast wee Jamie had spilled his porridge on my head and all down my one clean shirt. Murtagh had gone to his room to fetch his clean shirt while I tried to clean myself up. I could only hope Murtagh's shirt fit otherwise I would have to wear a dirty one. Jenny had to help me wash my hair again. She had to comb and plait it as well. In an effort to please her I had even allowed her to tie it with a ribbon this time. She said it would match the color that Claire was wearing in her hair.

Oh No! I had forgotten Claire. A dress for Claire. She had nothing suitable to wear. She had exactly three dresses. One was the green one I found her in that the seamstress had cleaned and altered; I would not have her married in that for obvious reasons. The second was the infamous red dress; enough said about being married in that one although I had grown rather partial to it as of late. The third was a used brown dress the seamstress had in the shop that she altered to fit Claire. It was a basic brown dress, nothing special. And of course Jenny had borrowed the servant's dress once... Jenny's wee joke, Ian called it. I did not think it was funny. What was I going to do now? I could not show up in all my finery and Claire not have a decent dress and no shoes. She did have a pair of boots now along with a pair of leggings; well, the boots would be better than being married in bare feet. What was I thinking? I was on my second lap around my room when Murtagh came in with the clean shirt. He took one look at me and ken something was wrong. He raised an eyebrow and said, "What now?"

"Murtagh," I started with this horrible, anguish in my voice. "I have completely forgotten about Claire. My bride, she has nothing to wear… no dress, shoes…"

Murtagh held up his hand to stop me from talking. "I ken ya had a lot on your mind already. Claire and I have taken care of the dress, skirts, corset, stockings and shoes. She is already dressed and wait'n for you downstairs," he said smiling. "And before ya say anyth'in you'll regret later, we did not get any of it from a whore. And Jenny had one of the servants take care of Claire's hair. Now get dressed. Everyone is waiting on you. We still have an hours walk to Broch Mordha and Father McMahon.

I was dressed in a flash and Murtagh helped me with the broach and I turned to look in the mirror. Murtagh stepped behind me and placed his hand on my shoulder. "Your father and mother would be proud of the man that you have become," he said and winked at my reflection.

I looked at his reflection and asked, "Would they like Claire, do you think? I ken Jenny doesn't. Would they be proud of the choice that I have made?" and I lowered my gaze and kicked the floor.

"Ellen and Brian are together, looking down on you today and smiling. Of course they are proud of you. You are a Braw Lad. Any parent would be proud to call you son. I am verra proud and honored to be your godfather. And as for Claire… do'na worry yourself over Jenny. Ian likes Claire and already calls her sister and he says Jenny will come 'round. Just let the lasses work it out for themselves, aye? Your parents, you ken they would see her as you do, love her as you do. Claire is bonnie inside and out. You have made a fine match and are lucky to have her. Now let's get move'n before she changes her mind."

I practically flew down the stairs and fairly burst out the front door. Everyone was waiting for Murtagh and I outside in the courtyard. They all turned and looked went I came outside and all went quiet. I heard a couple of gasps and sighs as I scanned the yard for Claire. There she was quietly standing by the penned goats. Alone. She was beyond description. Beautiful in a bright yellow dress, like the sun itself. Her hair was up and had wee white flowers and ribbon woven through it. The yellow dress brought out the auburn highlights in her hair. I only had eyes for her; no one else was there. I jumped all four steps and walked straight to her. She looked up and her glass face told me all I needed to know. I let my veil down for her as well. She sighed audible.

"Your last chance, are you sure?" Claire asked one last time with a look that pleaded with me to say 'yes, I'm sure I want you'.

Sometimes I really do love her glass face.

"You know that Jenny would rather have you married to Mrs. Crook than to me. I remind you that Jenny has in fact paraded every eligible female within 2 days ride in front of you to stop this day from happening."

"Only you," I replied and kissed her softly. "I have a wedding gift for you. I reached into my sporran and pulled out my mother's pearls. A long strand of Scottish pearls. No one seemed to ken where my mother had gotten them. My father had given them to me, to give to my wife, the day after I came home from school in Paris. When I asked if he had given them to my mother on their wedding day, he had said he had not given them to her at all. After my mother had died, my father had found them in her jewelry box. He said he had written to Colum and asked if they were a family piece of jewelry and did Colum want them returned to him? Colum wrote that he ken nothing about them. So my father had no idea where they came from nor who had given them to her. I just ken my mother had treasured them; kept them safe in her jewelry box, yet had never worn them.

Claire put her hand to her mouth, gasped and looked up and me and said "They are beautiful, Jamie. Are you sure Jenny should not have them?"

"My father gave them to me to give to **My** Bride. I am doing as I was told," he replied with an impish grin on his face.

"Will you put them on me now, so I may be married with your parents blessing on me?" she asked.

I motioned with my finger for Claire to turn around. It was a long single strand of pearls so I wrapped them around her neck four times so they fit close against her throat but not too tightly and hooked the clasp. I lightly ran my finger from the clasp down her back to the top of of her dress bodice. I then traced the neckline to the top of her right shoulder then traced the neck line all the way back to the top of the left shoulder. I heard her sigh. "You are so bonnie Claire, heart and soul. Come walk with me to the church. Wed me, be my wife, always," I whispered.

When she turned back around, it was my turn to sigh. She is kind. She is strong. She is beautiful. She is my match. "Yes," she whispered back and I kiss her once more, this time for me. She is mine.

I take her hand as I turn around and see everyone staring at us; no one moving, no one talking. Thank God for Murtagh who shouts, "Let's get going. We have a wedding to attend. The good Father McMahon will na wait all day, aye?" And the wedding party started to walk to the kirk. Claire and I walk along behind all the others. Ian drives a wagon, filled with hay, that carries all the bairn and pregnant women. Jenny, now seven months pregnant, sits in front with Ian. As we walk, I stop and pick various wild flowers that grow along the way and Claire has a beautiful bouquet by the time we reach the church. She removes a red and a blue flower, breaking the stems shorter and tucks them through my broach. "Our auras," she whispers to me and smiles.

When I had ridden to ask Father McMahon to marry us, and I had agreed to the reading of the banns for three consecutive weeks before the wedding could be performed, I had told him I wanted to include the Blood Oath. He had no issues with it being included. I had brought the ties from our handfasting to use again with this oath. Claire noticed and smiles. I had a silver ring fashioned by the blacksmith, my friend Angus McLeod, that same day; thistles all around the outside of the ring and "… da mi basa mille…" on the inside. Claire had removed Frank's gold wedding band when we handfasted to prove to me she was mine and had given it to me after the ceremony and I had carried it in my sporran. I had used it to have her silver ring sized correctly. Then at Claire's insistence, we had used the gold band in trade for her dresses and boots and my guess her wedding dress as well. The gold ring now a part of her past. The silver ring now her future. Her beautiful long slender fingers are mine.

When Father McMahon said I could kiss my bride, I had intended a quick, soft kiss. There would be time for further exploration later when we were alone. But the softness of her lips as well as the deep scent of her made me step closer to her and instead of halting the kiss, I deepened it. Claire responded by opening her mouth to mine and I forgot where we were as my hand went up behind her head to hold it in place while I… until I felt Murtagh, once again place his hand on my shoulder and this time he cleared his throat. We broke apart, both red faced. Everyone was hooting, whistling, clapping and cheering. Jenny was looking down at her feet shaking her head side to side.

When we left the kirk, I noticed Murtagh standing off to the side, running his hand down a horse that looked verra familiar. Murtagh looked like a hawk searching for prey as he scanned the vicinity. I knew the horse, but could not place it; I ken the answer would come to me. People calling my name, stopping to talk, shaking my hand, slapping my shoulder, trying to kiss my bride…it's safe to say I was fairly distracted. Someone thrust a mug of ale in my hand. I offered Claire the first drink, then I took a thirsty gulp myself then motioned that I was going to give Murtagh the rest and that I would be right back. As I approached, I looked the horse over. Yes, of course I knew this animal; Castle Leoch Stables. It was Peggy, Rupert's mount. What was that horse doing here? A shiver went down my spine and I instinctively placed my hand on my dirk. I thrust the mug into Murtagh's hand, turned and looked back at Claire. Sensing something, she turned from the four men vying for her attention and looked at me. With absolutely no hesitation she turned, without even excusing herself, walked to me and into my embrace. As I held her close, I scanned the area.

"The tavern door," Murtagh said nodding in its direction. I turned my head and looked. There was Dougal standing half hidden behind the open door. He smiled a inhumane half grin, nodded his head and disappeared inside.

Home to Lallybroch. I could not get Claire there fast enough. And as we walked, I tried to remove the image of Dougal from my mind. We ate, drank, danced and made merry; though Murtagh and I kept the drinking to a minimum, just in case. Claire was shy with most but with me, Murtagh and Ian, she seemed happy and carefree. She had not seen Dougal nor noticed Peggy, I was sure, and I said a quick blessing for that. I had planned that Claire and I would stop by the mill on the way back to Lallybroch to have a few moments alone but I had decided against that for her safety. My uncle had proven to be more than untrustworthy. Just why he had chosen to come remained unanswered. He definitely wanted me to know he was there. He left the horse in front of the church and waited for me to find him before he went into the tavern. Murtagh had offered to go to the tavern and get answers. "No," I had replied emphatically. I would not allow my uncle to ruin this day.

At home, Jenny sat with me for a while, but did not seem herself either. I tried to discover what was amiss but she just shook her head and brushed it off as being tired from the day and being so pregnant. I ken she was not accepting of Claire. No amount of talking by me or Murtagh could convenience her Claire was not a woman of loose morals, let alone an outright whore, especially after she had seen the scars. She was not pleased that one of her parade of 'eligible bachelorettes', as Claire referred to them, had not won my heart away from Claire. Our parents must surely be sad," she had said the night before in her last attempt to stop the wedding. She had stomped off waving her hands in the air. Ian said the best thing I could do is stay out of it. I was the center of the problem. I needed to stay neutral and not pick sides. I had gained Claire but felt I had lost Jenny. It saddened my heart, lessened my joy for the day.

Most of the party had finally broken up. The tenants were leaving to go home to seek and consume cures for the impending hangovers. Jenny saw them to the door. We were having a bit of cake, and then Claire and I would head upstairs, I hoped, when Jenny walked in with a strange look on her face. She turned to me and said, "Jamie, Uncle Dougal and two other men are here to wish you and Claire merry on your wedding day" and she opened the door wide and admitted Dougal, Rupert and Angus.

Claire made a guttural noise I cannot put a name to except terror. I immediately grabbed her and pulled her behind me and armed myself with my dirk. Claire's hands instantly ensnared themselves in my belt. I had removed my sword upon entering the house; it was on a table in the hallway, so was Murtagh's. Dougal must have seen them when he entered. At the same time I told Jenny to get out of the way, to hide behind the door for protection. Thank God she decided to listen to me. Murtagh had his dirk in hand and was on my right in a heart's beat. Ian, who had been sitting, had risen and was looking from face to face confused. He had no weapon but he and I both ken where there were two in this room, and as with any good soldier, he was quickly assessing the situation for what it was.

"Now is that any way to greet your uncle, when I have come all this way to help celebrate such a happy occasion? I only wish to kiss the bride, nephew," Dougal said as he walked into the room with his arm extended, intent on an embrace. His left arm was bandaged to his body, the sleeve of his coat hung empty. He wore an evil grin on his face. He was up to no good.

Claire made another guttural noise more like a moan this time. I could feel her panic. She pulled on my belt as she tried to back away but was too afraid to let go of me. I then felt the pull down like she was now trying to hide by squatting, but she must have realized that was not going to work either for the pull on my belt stopped.

"Sassenach, go to Murtagh now. Murtagh, guard her with your life," I said authoritatively. I moved a step closer to Murtagh. Claire put her forehead to my back and shook her head 'No'.

"Claire, I need you to listen and do as I say," I said as firmly as I could without raising my voice and scaring her further. I felt her reluctantly release her grip on my belt and move to Murtagh. Claire was definitely in distress; I could hear a continuous low moan from her. I had to block it out and trust Murtagh to protect her. Claire was safe I told myself, now concentrate on Dougal.

"So I see the spy listens to your commands," Dougal sneered. "She would never obey me. Even when I beat her, she still fought me; never really stopped fighting me. I wonder, will she fight you, nephew, when you take her? Even now she calls you husband?"

Jenny came out from behind the door and stood in front of Dougal at that. "What do you mean "I beat her"? Are you responsible for those marks all over her body? You, my mother's brother, did that to her?" she asked incredulously turning slightly and pointing a finger at Claire. "Why? Why would you beat a whore like that? What could she possibly have done to deserve such a beating? You think she is a spy? For who? Why? You ken she won't leave my brother's side because of those cut you laid down with such fury; she is scared of every man that comes near her. You bastard." And Jenny, being the Fraser and mother that she is, took the two extra steps forward and slapped my uncle across the face. Hard enough to leave a sizable handprint.

I came out of my stupor and started for Jenny but Claire was there first. She grabbed Jenny and pulled her backwards into my arms, leaving herself to assume Jenny's place and receive the blow my Uncle let loose. It sent Claire flying to the floor. I caught Jenny and I growled in anger as Claire was struck and fell. As I moved forward to protect Claire, I pulling Jenny backwards to Murtagh, who in turn handed her to Ian. Jenny would be safe from Dougal with Ian. I then stepped over Claire, my legs straddling her prone body as I stood over her, protecting her with my own just as she had done, without hesitation, for Jenny, only a moment ago. My dirk was itching to find its way into a vital spot on my uncle's body.

Rupert and Angus had remained stone still with shocked looks on their faces. Clearly, they had no idea this was going to happen. They now came into action. Each went to Dougal, one on each side and took hold of him.

"What are ya do'n man? I thought ya said we were coming to wish them well, not to try and take Claire again." Rupert said with alarm. "You told Colum ya were done with think'n Claire was a spy."

"What do ya want with her anyway?" Angus added. "She's Jamie's problem now, ya ken. Let him deal with explaining her strangeness."

Dougal wisely retreated four steps backwards with his hand up in the air showing he had no weapon. He looked me in the eye and said "Your sister thinks your wife is a whore?" He smiled a purely heinous smile. "Now just why would she think a prize like Claire a common prostitute? All that lovely white skin. I will tell you Jamie, it was flawless. Not a mark on her. And I must say that red dress she has does present Claire's lovely attributes to their best advantage. I believe the young lad thought so as well. She was worth a beer to him, was it? It is easy to see why your dolt of a sister would make such a rash conclusion when she arrived in that dress. She is property worth fighting for, aye Nephew? Is she worth dying for? What have you and Claire been playing at, Jamie? Ya can'na have her. Handfasting would'na stopped me. Even married to her, ya must ken she's mine. Ya must'a ken I'd come to collect my property."

Murtagh had his hand on my shoulder, to keep me from acting rashly inside my father's house. "Your property?" I growled at my uncle.

"As I said, I have come to help my sister's family celebrate this happy occasion. To represent Castle Leoch at the nuptials, and to take Claire back to Beannachd after I kill ya. I'll kiss your bride good and hard for ya, Jamie. And make sure she has a wedding night to remember," and he made several rude thrusts with his pelvis to show me exactly what he meant. "Hand her over now and I'll be on my way and let ya live."

"Take back what is yours?" I repeated. "Claire was not, is not and never will be yours, Dougal." My mind was racing with ideas. I certainly did not like the order he had placed his itinerary, especially 'take back what is mine' followed by the kissing and raping of my wife. Over my dead body and then Murtagh's beside me. Dougal would have to get thought both of us; he would never touch Claire again. This was going to get ugly, fast.

With Murtagh beside me, I could see to Claire. She was still on the floor behind me. Terrified to move. I helped her up and, once standing, I put my hand under her chin, lifting her face to look at me. Her eyes would not meet mine. She would only look past me; she could not take her eyes off Dougal. Her eyes showed the terror I could feel pound in her heart. I willed her to look at me and she turned her face to mine. I placed my hand on her cheek, where the bastard had hit her. She closed her eyes and leaned into my hand. I felt her heart beat slow, her breathing calm. I placed my hand back under her chin and this time she let me turn it so I could see that the whole side of her face was red. Claire was going to have a fresh bruise by morning. "He will not take you Claire. Do you hear me?" I asked. She nodded her head.

My uncle had the audacity to speak again. "Claire, come to me now. You are mine. My seed is inside ya, you ken that Claire. You understand that, aye Jamie, even be'n the virgin that ya are." My uncle stated succinctly and with what he thinks are proprietary rights. The smile on his face is malicious. "I ground her corn just like I said I would and she is with child, my child." He added with a look that said he was serious. He thought Claire was carrying his bairn. "Ya ken by now the marks on her lower back, Jamie. It was my way of keeping score ya see. One line for every time I released my seed inside her. Oh, she is mine, Jamie. And she is carrying my child. Now hand her over."

At that Rupert released Dougal and backed up to the door. He was clearly telling me that he wanted no part of what Dougal was here for. Angus looked back at Rupert and then to Dougal.

"Come on man, we need to be going. You've said what you wanted to say. She's Jamie's wife now. Let her go." Angus tried to appeal to Dougal as he also walked toward the door.

"Let's go back to the tavern, aye? Let the man have his wedding night in peace." Rupert added.

Jamie did not wait for any more banter. He was done listening to Uncle rant. He roared as he lunged and pinned his uncle against the wall with his right forearm across his uncle's chest and held his dirk against Dougal's neck. There was a small stream of blood flowing from where the dirk's sharp edge had already cut the skin.

"She was never yours to begin with, Uncle," I said. Claire is mine now, in the eyes of God and in our hearts. No, she will not go with you. Ever. She is not with child. Not yet anyway. If that is what you came for, you are leaving now. Rupert and Angus are leaving and will take you with them. Let me walk you to the door." I ken better than to move, my uncle was not going anywhere alive. This was going to end here and now.

"Jamie…" my uncle started to say. I think he finally realized I was going to kill him. He would go back to my Uncle Colum for burial. And then his right arm moved. And Murtagh was suddenly by my side having pined Dougal's hand to the wall and a small Sgian Dhu fell from Dougal's hand on to the floor. Dougal screamed in pain and tried to pull his hand free but only succeeded in making it bleed more.

"How dare you! Get out! Get out of my mother and father's house!" Jenny said in a raised voice of anger as she walked forward and stood next to me, placing her hand on my arm, pushing the dirk down and away from my uncle's throat. "Claire is my brother's lawfully wedded wife and my sister now. You will not take my sister from our home. From Lallybroch. From Fraser Land. Do you hear me?" She stamped her foot to emphasize her seriousness and her anger. "Get out of our house and off our land. Now. You are no longer family. No longer welcome in our mother's home," she added and then stated, "Claire is not with child. I ken. She has had her courses since she has come. She can'na be pregnant with your child. Now leave and never return."

"Shut up woman. No one is talking to you." Dougal spit out. "You do'na listen any better than your mother. Ya would not even be here if Ellen had done as she was told and wed who my brother had arranged. She might even still be alive if she had not slipped away with that Bastard Silkie that fathered ya."

Ian had been quiet through the whole affair, but when Dougal told Jenny to 'shut up', he walked forward until he was directly in front of Dougal and placed the cocked pistol against Dougal's forehead. "Get out." He stated quietly. With authority. "You are leaving and don't ever come back." Murtagh released Dougal's hand from the wall and stooped to pick up the small knife from the floor then stepped into the hall to help escort Dougal, Angus and Rupert from the house.

I turned and looked at Rupert and Angus and said, "You came with him knowing he was after Claire? You ken all he has done to her and the part you both played in it. Do you have no shame? Are you na men? You would help him try and take Claire again?" I added, "Does Colum ken? You do ken Colum is your Laird, aye, not Dougal? You are no longer welcome here, either of you."

They had no reply and made none. There was no excuse for them. They needed to get the hell out of my house.

I turned to Dougal as he stood there blood from his hand dripping on the floor and said, "This is the last time I will tell you. Get out. Out of My house. Get off My Land. Off Fraser Land. And don't come back. Any of you. Leave my family alone. I will honor my sister's wish and not kill you in this house, our mother's home. But hear me speak true. If I ever see you again, you are a dead man, Uncle. Dead. Have I made myself clear?"

Angus turned and walked out the door with just a nod of his head. No apology.

"I wish you and Claire happiness and a long marriage, truly Jamie." Rupert said. He added, "I am sorry for the part I played in all of this." He hung his head and walked out of the room.

Dougal said nothing but if looks could kill, I'd need my healer. As he turned to leave, I could not resist, I sheathed my dirk, drew my fist back and let it fly. It made contact with my Uncle's nose and I think everyone in the house heard the crunch. I knocked him backwards into the hall, where he stumbled and fell. His left arm was bandaged and strapped to his side. His right hand went to his face to try and quell the blood. He grabbed his empty coat sleeve and placed it against his nose. Rupert and Angus helped my Uncle up and walked him toward the now open door, Ian standing beside it. Ian saw them out the front door and onto their horses. Murtagh had Ian's back the entire time. I watched Ian from the hall by the parlor door for Ian to return. When Ian came inside, he locked and bolted the door behind him. Jenny left to check on the back door in the kitchen.

I turned and Claire threw herself into my open arms. I turned to Murtagh and exhaled loudly out through my mouth, looked him in the eye then motioned my head upward. Murtagh closed his eyes, nodded his head then went upstairs to look out the windows to see if he could see which way the three were headed. I walked Claire back into the parlor. Ian was at the table pouring 5 glasses of good whiskey. When Jenny came back, and the four of us each had a glass, I raised mine in toast, put my arm around my wife and said "To the Fraser-Murray Family. I could not ask for better" and swallowed the entire glass in one swallow. Everyone else follow suit.

Jenny said, "I ken tonight is not the night, but I want the whole story. It is clear you have left a good portion unsaid. And I want the truth, not some version covered in honey to go down better, aye?" She walked to Claire who was sitting in my father's arm chair by the fire, just staring at the flames. Jenny knelt down, using the chair's arm for balance, at Claire's feet and looked up into Claire's eyes. "Before I go to bed, I want to say how verra sorry I am to have treated you the way that I have. I honestly thought you were a... ", and she stops before she repeats the horrible word she had already hurtled at Claire a thousand times before. "I judged you by your dress and then assumed the worst when I saw the torturous marks. I thought I was protecting my wee baby brother. Only he's not my wee baby brother anymore, is he? He is a grown man and has been lucky enough to find his true love. And you love him enough to accept him, in spite of his witch of a sister. I am truly sorry Claire. I can only beg your forgiveness and hope, some day, you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I ken I have a long row to hoe before I can even hope to be forgiven. Now I am off to bed. Claire, will you come with me and help with the laces? I think our husbands are going to keep Murtagh company for a few more rounds," and she winked at Ian, turned, walked to the door and waited for Claire.

My wife, I knew did not want to leave me, but understood the significance of the olive branch my sister was extending. I ken Claire would not be so quick to forgive my sister the slights she had inflicted in the last several weeks but she would go with Jenny now to acknowledge the offer of peace. She kissed me gently on the lips and rested her forehead on my chest for the time it took our heartbeats to become one, then turned and walked to the door. She turned back to face me when she reached the door and said, "I know what you are going to do Jamie. You and Murtagh. Be very careful. Never underestimate what he is capable of. Injured animals are the most dangerous. Come back to me, husband. I will not be denied my wedding night."

I nodded once so she ken I understood. She nodded back, turned and walked up the stairs with Jenny, passing Murtagh on his way back down. Claire stopped Murtagh with a gentle touch on his arm, whispered I don't ken what, kissed him on the cheek and continued up the stairs. At the landing she again rested her eyes on my face. I did not need to see to know she was crying.

"Well," Ian said. "At least I ken who has hurt Claire and whether they will be coming for her. I can not wait to hear that tale," he said and winked at me. "That is quite a brother your mother had, Jamie. Is Colum better or worse?" Murtagh slapped Ian on the back and held his glass out for him refill.

Two drinks later, Murtagh and I were saddled and ready to ride. Ian had two loaded pistols on the table by the door. He was to lock the door behind us. With luck, we would be back by breakfast; that is if Dougal, Angus and Rupert left for Castle Leoch straight from here. We should have no trouble picking up my Uncle's trail if we ken which way they were headed and Murtagh had that bit of information. My money was on their heading in the direction of Castle Leoch starting tonight, making camp somewhere close. If Dougal thought he was truly leaving with Claire in tow, he would have made a plan. Dougal would not want to stay at the Inn in Broch Mordha with my wife kicking and screaming. They were on Fraser Land; too many people would ken my wife, the healer. Murtagh and I needed to follow them. I had the feeling Rupert would leave, go back to Colum. He did not seem to have the heart for this evil. But my Uncle Dougal was focused on his prize and so predictable to a point. Angus was the wild card. Anyone's guess as to what he might do. I did not trust the two of them to go back to Leoch.

If only my uncle were dead, I thought as Murtagh and I rode out of the yard.


	16. Chapter 16 -- The Wedding Night

Three days, three full days. Tonight would be my fourth horrible night. No word or sign of Jamie and or Murtagh. Where are they? I just want to scream. I cannot stay in this house any longer. I cannot just sit on the fence, watch the road and wait. I need to get out. I need to get away from here, if only for an hour or so. I pull on my boots, grab my gathering basket and sgian dhu, poke my head in the kitchen and tell Mrs. Crook I am going out and I leave. Out the front door, turn left, out the main arch and up the road. Away. Anywhere but here. Anywhere but Lallybroch. I cannot stand to be here any longer without my husband. Everywhere I turn I see him, smell him, think of him. I hate Dougal MacKenzie with every fiber of my being. I hate myself for making that pact with Geillis. I should have let Jamie just kill the bastard straight away; been done with it. If anything happens to Jamie….or Murtagh….

No I won't think like that. Run Claire, just run, I tell myself. Get it out of your system. At first I hike my skirts and do just that, run, tears streaming down my face. When I am out of breath and have no more tears, I slow to a walk but I keep moving. I stick to the road, so I can find my way back, but I move forward, not looking back.

Finally, I am far enough away I can breathe. I slow my walk. I let my mind go empty and numb. I walk off the road and into a small grove of trees. Apples, wild apples. Most are still green. Not good to eat as they are, but cooked would make a nice, tart pie. I pick enough for what I think will make two pies. I find one that is almost ripe. I take that too. There is a denser set of trees further back, away from the road, and I hear running water. There must be a stream. Moss, I need for sure, there may be leaches in the stream as well. Damn, I did not bring a jar. They will not survive the trip back to Lallybroch without water.

I do find dandelion; I pick the leaves for a salad. I could pick the blossoms for wine, but my heart is not in it. That would take planning and commitment to a long term project. I am surviving, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day right now, not living and planning.

" **Where are you James Fraser**?" I scream into the wind. " **You promised me my wedding night**. **You come back to me, Now!** Please. I will be lost without you." I add with sadness hitching in my voice, "Murtagh, you promised to keep him safe." Only the wind answers my cries.

I find chickweed, but I have plenty in the surgery so I skip it. I do find moss and gather some. It is good for burns and I find some mushrooms, not edible but I can dry and use the caps in small doses to slow bleeding. I kneel down to examine some lichten, and cut several from the dead tree. I walk in the water because the splashing sound I make as I walk distracts me from the quiet. Quiet leads to thoughts and my thoughts right now are all for Jamie and Murtagh.

Finally, I realize it must be afternoon. I need to start back. I do not wish to worry Ian or Jenny. They are as worried as I am for Jamie and Murtagh, I know. They do not need to add me to that list.

All I have on is my yellow wedding dress. I never took it off; Jamie told me that it was for him to do, to undress his bride. The thought of my husbands hands undoing the laces, his touch on me, his lips...that calms me, if only for a moment, makes me sigh. The dress is a light linen fabric, not wool and will not keep me warm as the sun sets. In my hurry to leave Lallybroch, I had not thought to grab my shawl. Poor little dress is pretty dirty now. I will wear it until he returns to me. He is a man of honor, he keeps his word. He will come back to me, I tell myself. He will.

I jump up and down and make loud splashes in the water and scream loud and long. I cry out for my husband and his godfather. I beg, to no one, for them to be alright and for them to come back to me. Safe. I swear I can feel my heart break and I sink to my knees, sobbing, then fall to my side on the bank and go numb. I must have fallen asleep for when I open my eyes, I can feel the passage of time and I am cold.

I start back, heading for Lallybroch, not home. Jamie is my home.

I do not see them until I walk right into them. I think I surprise them as much as they surprise me. 6 of them. All walking; one is leading a horse. They come around the bend just as I finally find the road. I stop short and tighten my grip on the sgian dhu. I step back away from the group, back the way I came. Backing away slowly, never taking my eyes off them, my focus shifting from one face to another.

One of them steps forward and says, "Hello there Mistress. You are far from home. Are you lost?"

I continue to slowly back away, toward the woods I have just walked out of.

"It's Jamie Fraser's Lass, is it not?" one boy says to the others. "The healer with the bonnie red dress…."

I am never going to live that damn dress down I think to myself.

"Mistress Fraser," another boy states. "It's me, Kyle. My da works the mill. Do ya remember me when you and Mistress Murray came for the grain last week? I helped load the wagon."

I sigh audibly. Yes, I remember him. I nod my head. I relax just a little and take a breath.

"Are you lost then, Mistress Fraser? Why don't you ride on Becky here and we will take you back to Lallybroch. It's on our way home. We are headed back to Broch Mordha. It will be going on dark soon enough." Kyle says with a smile and extends his hand. "We don't want you late for your supper, aye? Your husband will be missing ya."

"Yes, my husband," I repeat. I walk up, place my foot in his linked hands, he boosts me up on the horse's bare back and I set my basket in my lap. I do not have to speak. The boys keep their conversation going, mostly in Gaelic, which is fine by me. Gaelic is soothing for me to listen to; Jamie speaks it while he holds me, to calm me after one of my nightmares. I relax, close my eyes and listen to the boys. Before I know it we are at the fork in the road.

Kyle helps me down from Becky and the boys all say "Goodbye" and take the fork that continues to Broch Mordha. I smile and continue down the lane toward Lallybroch. The boys and their dirty songs make me smile. I understand more Gaelic than I thought. I come down the hill, around the corner, through the arch and there they are. Donas and Horse, the name I have silently called Murtagh's mount since he refuses to name the bloody animal. Donas raises his head, sniffs the air, stamps his foot and turns to greet me. I throw my arms around his neck and then kiss his nose.

I look him in the eye and say, "You brought him back safe, yes?"

Donas snorts as if in response. I place my hand on his chest between his front legs and determine the horses have been here only a short while; the horse is still warm and damp. I run my hand over his neck, side, stomach and over his flank to make sure he has no injuries and then repeat the process back up the other side. I find no blood or cuts of any kind. I fetch a bucket of water from the rain barrel and give each horse a drink and then cut the one ripe apple in half and give a piece to each.

I pat Donas on the neck. "Thank you Donas," I say, and walk toward the house to find my home, Jamie.

I take my boots off at the door and set my basket down beside them, open the door and enter the main hall. I listen. I hear nothing. I whistle; the one they taught me on the road. The one I should make if we are separated and I need to let him know where I am. I listen. I repeat the whistle. He must be upstairs, washing up and I run to the stairs, my bare feet pattering on the floor, and start to climb them when I hear the return whistle. The one Jamie and Murtagh had tried, unsuccessfully, to teach me. The one they use to signal each other they are alright when they are in a stramash and have lost sight of each other. Music to my ears.

I stop on the second step and turn. There is Jamie, in the parlor walking toward the door.

There she is, finally. Claire jumps the steps and runs into my arms, slipping her hands under my coat and pulling me into her, her head buried in my chest. Mo Neighan Donn.

I sniff him like I am a French truffle pig; smelling to inhale Jamie back into my lungs. I am also smelling for blood. I will know if he is hurt.

"Sassenach, stop sniffing me like a dog and kiss me. Proper, wife." I say and place my hand under her chin and lift her mouth to meet mine. And suddenly there is no one else in all of Scotland but the two of us until someone clears their throat. Claire releases me, reaches up and takes the sword belt off and drops it on the floor. My Sassenach then unbuckles the dirk belt and drops it to the floor as well. My wife walks behind me and removes my coat and drops it on the floor on top of my weapons, but my healer slowly and carefully looks me over for any signs of injury. That's what all the sniffing was about I now ken, she smells my injuries. She runs her fingers through my hair, feels my back, each arm, carefully examining each hand and finger and then feels my chest. I ken she finds every tear, bump, bruise and scratch; her fingers pause over every one of them. She finds every bandage, even the two under the layers of my shirt and waistcoat. Luckily no open wounds; Mrs. Fitzs has repaired and bandaged those, on both Murtagh and myself. Claire will re-clean and bandage them again later tonight, I ken. No preventing her.

When her hand starts to search below the waist, I grab her hand to stop her. "You'll have to wait until later, aye?" I said firmly. "I'm fine, there. You'll have to take my word for it now. Hardly a scratch on me. Murtagh had my back."

"Aye, Claire. I ken ya'd scalp me if I brought him back bleeding." Murtagh says with a smile.

I walk over to Murtagh and take his sword belt off and drop it to the floor. I reach for his dirk belt but Murtagh beats me to it and removes it himself. He takes his coat off and drops it on the floor as well. He holds his arms out to his side, shoulder high and said, "Go on then, look me over and then tend to your husbands needs, aye? I'm going to go take care of the horses," and he winks at Jamie.

I look Murtagh straight in the eye. I did not need to ask the question out loud.

"Done," he whispers to me and nods his head. "He is dead."

I check his chest for damage. Nothing. I feel his arms and pause over a tear in his sleeve, that was not there when they left and see the bandage underneath. His knuckles look as though they have definitely hit something; scraped and swollen. A lovely bruise has formed around one eye. I stop and look him in the eye, hard, willing him to tell me the rest I need to know.

"Jamie. Ya ken why. You and Jenny. Honor. It had to be him." He turns around to face me as I am circling to check his back. "We had to take the bastard back to Leoch. To Colum. Jamie insisted. That's what took so long."

A tear escapes my eye.

"The lad is good. He has you to comfort him, to ease the pain. It had to be done Claire. Now take your husband upstairs. He owes you a wedding night, aye?" Murtagh turns around so I can examine his back. "Do'na think ya are going to check under my kilt either. If I have been stabbed in the arse, I'd ken and tell ya. The rest you can tend to tomorrow. Now go."

I walk back around front, kiss his cheek and mouth 'Thank you'.

I walk to my husband, place a soft kiss on his waiting lips and say, "Take me to bed husband. I want my wedding night. Now, please."

Jamie bends slightly at the knees, places a hand on the back of each leg right where they meet my ass and lifts me. I wrap my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck , lay my head on his shoulder and to bed he takes me. Not to sleep.

He manages to open and then close the door and sets me down but does not release his hold on me. The kiss is long, starting out tender but turns into all the want and desire four nights of waiting to consummate a marriage will create. I just relax and let him do what he wants and needs to do. It is all good with me. His touch start out logically, methodical and tender but he begins to become frantic and more urgent in his exploration and desire.

"Shhh," I finally say and place my hand on his cheek. "Relax. We have all the time in the world. It is just the two of us now, Jamie. Until we decide otherwise." I lead him to the chair by the fire and sit him down. I stand between his legs and he automatically places both hands on my ass and gently massages me. I pull the ends of the bodice laces from their hiding spot, neatly tucked inside my bodice out of sight, untie the bow and drop the laces. Jamie, ever watchful, now has focus; I have given him a project with a goal. He looks up at me with his blue eyes darkened by lust, and then back to the task at hand. He starts out with enthusiasm and gusto but by the time he is on the last three or four rows, his is ready to be done. Poor boy, little does he know what lies underneath.

He stands up and pushes the bodice from my shoulders. I let it slip down my arms and onto the floor. He looks down and then back up at me with the realization that after all his labors, he has uncovered almost nothing. The corset underneath is the same bloody thing he just spent ten minutes unlacing. He looks so defeated. My poor husband.

I push him back down to sit in the chair. "You removed one object, now it is my turn," I say and smile wickedly at him. This makes him smile back. I kneel to remove both boots and socks then place my hands on top of his knees and slide my hands under his kilt and up his thighs and just as I start to stand I nip the inside of his leg. Jamie gasps. I stand up, smiling.

I smile at her. My Sassenach wants to play. I can play also. I turn her around and look to remove her skirts. I find the button, undo it and the skirt falls to the ground in a heap at her feet. I untie the petticoat and it flutters to the ground as well. I can see her beautiful arse through her verra sheer shift and gently bit each cheek. My wife makes a lovely little squeak with each bite.

I step out of my skirts and with my foot, I push them aside. I turn and help my husband stand and accept the kiss he offers as he rises. I slowly, seductively, play with each button on his waistcoat, of which there are seven, until they are all undone. My husband almost slaps my hands out of the way and does it himself, in an effort to speed things along. He wants his next turn. When I have finished unbuttoning the waistcoat, I run my hands up his chest, over his shoulders, slide the garment off and drop it on top of my skirts. I bring my hands back down and my thumbs circle and rub his nipples though his shirt. That little move rewards me with Jamie, letting his head fall forward until our foreheads meet, softly moaning my name.

She is good. I smile because she is mine and we are just getting started. I take her two hands from my chest and place a kiss on each palm and release them and sit back down. Her navel is just about level with my face. I look down and can see her honeypot right there. I place both my hands on her waist. My thumbs are almost touching. I slowly slide my hands down from her waist over her hips and barely allow my thumbs to softly brush that beautiful forest and my fingers to caress that lovely round arse. I stop and look up to see Claire almost loose her balance as her head rolls back and she catches her breath. Her hands instinctively grab my shoulders for balance. My hands continue down her thighs until I feel the tops of her leggings. I work the shift up with my fingers until I expose a bit of her beautiful white skin above the legging ties and, because my hands are holding onto her legs and the shift up, I gently touch my nose to her navel and run it down the front of her body. When I get to her honeypot I inhale deeply and then untie each legging's bows with my teeth and watch them float into puddles at her feet.

"Oh, God," I cry, moan "Jaaammmie," and pant. He stands and catches me before I fall because my legs go weak at the knees. His lips are on my neck and all I can do at this point is continue panting. God, he is good at this. Virgin my ass, I think. We kiss with longing, opening our mouths for each other to explore and then suddenly he stops. It is my turn and he clearly wants to see what I will do next. I leave him standing. I unbuckle his belt and before I unlatch the buckle that will send his kilt sliding to the floor, I kneel facing him. The kilt drops like a rock and I then realize his shirt is completely covering the object of my desire. I click my teeth. I hear Jamie laugh. I look up and he is smiling down at me.

I smile at my Sassenach. I reach down and grab her by the shoulders and lift her to her feet and kiss her hard again. I take my index finger and feel around the top of her corset, in between the corset and her shift for the laces, rubbing the tops of her breasts as I search. My wife rewards me with yet another moan, this one filled with want and desire. I begin the lengthy process of unbinding her, slowly, teasing her, making her wait, pushing her to want me to finish and release her from its constraints. I ken this time there will be a reward of great paramount. When I reach the last lace, I push open the corset and there is my wife in all of her glory with only an extremely sheer shift standing between me and her verra naked body and lovely pale skin. I ken I have seen her naked before, twice in fact, but now she is mine to touch, hold and have. I untie the shift and the neck falls open and I slowly, gently cup her breast and touch my thumb to her nipple. It's reaction is to harden, begging me to pull it into my mouth and suckle. Though my cock was hard almost from the moment she started sniffing me downstairs the thought of suckling her makes my cock grow and stiffen more, quickly, and I moan.

"Claire, I need you. Now." I don't wait for her to answer. I grab her and kiss her hard, then turn her and bend her over the bed, raise her shift and take her, hard and fast. It is over quickly and when I release I muffle my cry into the back of her neck and bite her hard.

She turns her head and whispers, "I love you so much Jamie," and sighs.

We lay together. Me on top of her until our heart beats become one. I raise myself off her by straightening my arms and nestle my nose in the back of her neck and hairs. Just breathing my wife's scent. Claire rolls over on her back, somehow manages to stay underneath me and raises her head, taking my lower lip between her teeth and sucks, softly. She lifts my shirt and, with the index finger and thumb of each hand, starts to scratch, pull and play with each of my nipples.

"Claire..." I start. "I don't think..."

She opens her shift and exposes her breast and my mouth is immediately suckling it; pulling, nipping, licking, sucking. Her back arches and her head rolls back and she whispers, "aaahhh" and her hands are on the back of my head and she adds, "please, don't stop".

I can feel my cock harden. And I am inside her again before I ken it. She is moving against my rhythm. I pull away and so does she. I move toward and so does she. I am completely sheathed with each thrust. Over and over. My head bends forward so I can watch as I enter and pull away. Claire's hands run down my back, my ass and then her fingers tips are just barely touching my balls. I look into her eyes and see how much she loves me and I cannot help myself. My pace quickens and I begin to release again. My mouth is at her neck as I cry for the joy of it and I bit her again as my body moves in and out. I feel Claire's legs tighten around my waist, squeezing me, her head roll back as her breath hitches and she begins to pant. She whispers,"Oh God, Jamie" and her body tights around my cock, contracting. And then suddenly she sighs loudly, her body shutters then relaxes underneath me and her legs quiver. My head rolls onto her shoulder and I watch her face; she is content, breathing heavily and quietly sighs "Oh, God Jamie" and I realize what has happened.

I lay my lips on hers and kiss her, lift up, look down at her and say, "We are truly one now," and gently kiss her again.

The look she gives me says it all and she kisses me back, softly.

I slip out of her and say the magic word that will bring my wife back to life. "Bath". Her eyes fly open and I help her sit up. God love Jenny, I don't ken when she did it, while we were downstairs waiting for Claire to return, I suppose. The tub, in front of the fire, half full of hot water. Jenny knew I was dirty, but I think my wife is dirtier and must have ken that too. How Claire missed the tub when we entered the room, I don't ken. My Sassenach is drawn to water like a duck; she is always cleaning herself.

She looks at me with love in her eyes and says "Jamie, how did you know? Thank you." She walks with me to the tub, lets her shift drop to the floor, places a hand on my shoulder and steps in.

"It was'na me. Must have been Jenny," I reply as I step into the tub as well, remove my shirt and wait for what I ken is coming.

"What the bloody hell happened to you?" my healer practically screams at me, looking from my body to my face and back. "Turn around" she orders me like a true Laird.

Maybe she had not found all the bandages downstairs after all. Heaven help Murtagh then. He is worse than I am.

Claire carefully removes the bandages, checking each wound as she does. She then sits down in the tub, spread her legs, pats the water in front of her, commands me to sit down and tell her everything. She reaches up, grabs the soap and rag from the table and starts to wash my back and the worst of my scratches.

 _Murtagh and I had left following the road to Broch Mordha, which is the direction Murtagh, watching from the upstairs window, had seen Dougal, Rupert and Angus leave. The way that made the most sense. Broch Mordha would have food, drink, lodging and whores. My uncle would not necessarily take the most likely path, however._

"Now remember Sassenach, my uncle is canny and that it is late and verra dark, only a quarter moon," I stand up, turn around so my back is no longer to her, sit back down, grab my wife's legs, pull them up and toward me and she wraps them around my waist. I lean back against the tub and she leans forward and lays her head on my chest. She puts one arm around my back pulling herself tight against me and her other hand on my chest, lying still as a stone. I put my arms around her tight and continue...

 _Murtagh and I were still going careful, slowly so not as to stumble into their campsite if they decided not to go all three miles to town. There is the fork in the road, I always forget about, that circles around Broch Mordha, does not pass through. We did not see their tracks go that way but I ken that would be the way my uncle would go. His camp would be down there near the stream. We found them, or rather we found Rupert, three horses and the campsite. With verra little persuasion needed, Rupert told us the plan. Rupert had taken the three horses they rode to Lallybroch on, riding Peggy and leading the other two, all the way to Broch Mordha. Rupert went so far as to lead them to the Blacksmiths to let us think the horses were there for the night. Rupert, at the stream outside the other end of town, doubles back to the camp we find him at. My uncle and Angus had walked back to the camp, off the trail, taken the fourth horse meant for you, Claire, and rode double up through the stream, catching the road from Inverness that forks to Lallybroch. They were going to sneak back to the house, stop Ian and Jenny anyway they needed to, take you and Blue and go back the way they came toward Inverness to the stream, back to the camp to get Rupert and the horses, then ride all night, hiding during the day, all the way back to Beannachd. They figured Murtagh and I would be sitting outside all night a Broch Mordha waiting for them to come out of the inn at first light. Then, in the morning, realizing they were not there, Dougal figured we would think they would head for Castle Leoch and Colum's protection from there; that Murtagh and I would ride like the wind in an attempt to catch them._

I paused and lifted Claire's face to look at me. "You ken I could not let that happen Claire. Not only to stop him from ever touching you again, but he had no issues in bring harm to Ian and Jenny in his desire to take you. I had to stop him, Claire"

She nodded her head and kissed me and nestled tightly into my chest.

 _Murtagh followed the stream and I went back and around to head them off before they reached Lallybroch. Riding double and the navigating a stream they were not familiar with, in the dark, would slow them down. I almost rode right passed them, they were so slow coming out of the woods. Dougal was the one I was worried about. With Dougal dead, I thought Angus would just stop._

 _I surprised them as they came out of the woods. They were not expecting me. I pulled my uncle from the back of the horse and slit his throat in one motion. I had no hesitation. Dead and Done. I was standing over Dougal's body and Angus came up from behind and using his sgian dhu, he stabbed me in the back. He caught the dirk belt and so the motion was deflected, plus I am taller. That is what made the two wounds in the lower part of my back / upper part of my arse. I fell to my knees._

"I went down Claire," I said and squeezed my wife tightly to my chest, stroking her hair. "If it had'na been for Murtagh...ya not had your wedding night Mo Neighan Donn. Angus would have slit my throat for sure."

 _Angus would have had me if it had'na been for Murtagh. Murtagh rode right out of the woods, jumped down on Angus from his horse, right into Angus' knife. Angus jabbed him in the arm and a bad slice in his side before Murtagh stabbed him in the chest with his dirk, killing him._

"God Claire, how will I ever repay him?" I ask as I shake my head.

I sit up and look Jamie in the face. "You can't Jamie. Murtagh does not expect you to either. He swore an oath to your mother. He is keeping his oath. Protecting you with his life. Just as you would do for him, even without an oath. We will find a way to thank him, to honor him, I promise. But we can never repay him for **ALL** he has done for us." I lean forward and kiss Jamie. I have my husband and I silently thank Murtagh for that.

"Now that takes care of two of the five wounds I found on you. You have a cut above your eye as well as a wound on your arm that both needs stitches, as well as the two on your arse. There is bruising on your chest and stomach as well as the cut across the back of your hand that have yet to be explained. You still have some of the tale to tell." Claire says as she soaps the rag and begins to wash my chest and arms and hands before the water goes cold. "Continue please," she says as she starts to scrub.

 _I manage to stop the bleeding and bandage Murtagh and he does the same for me. We catch the horse Dougal and Angus were riding and place both of them on the back of the animal and make our way back to Rupert and the camp. We wrap Dougal and Angus in blankets and tie them to the backs of two of the horses, put out the fire and by riding all night and the next day we made it to Castle Leoch by supper the next day. Auld Alex, thank gracious, takes care of the horses for me and Mrs. Fitz saw to Murtagh and my wounds and then we were taken to see Colum._

"Claire, I think that was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. Tell my Uncle Colum, I had killed my mother's brother," he said and shook his head.

"What did Colum say, Jamie?" I ask.

"I told him about finding you and the conflict at the tavern near Beannachd. I told him how Dougal, Angus and Rupert showed up at Lallybroch wanting to take you back... Colum already ken, Claire. I could see it in his face. He ken. He ken it all. Murtagh and I think Colum had already spoken to Rupert. Mrs. Fitz fed us and put us to bed. When we woke, Mrs. Fitz fed us again, packed us some food and drink for the road and we went to collect our horses. A couple of Colum's tackmen decided to give us a wee send off. Nothing we could not handle," Jamie said and smiled. "And we rode for home to you. You and Lallybroch."

"Yes Jamie, but what did Colum say?" I ask again.

"That I am to replace Dougal until Hamish is old enough," Jamie said as he looked down and played with the soap and rag in his hands.

"And?," I asked because I knew there was more.

Jamie added, "That I need to be back at Castle Leoch within a weeks time and I am to bring my wife with me when I return." And Jamie, with rag and soap in hand began to wash me.

"Oh." was all I had to say.


	17. Chapter 17 - Full Circle

I stop just before I walk through the gate to the Fraser family kirkyard. I cross myself. I don't really know the rules for this kind of thing. I suppose there is some sort of protocol for visiting the dead and I certainly do not want to anger anyone, especially Jamie's parents. I mean, they've never met me before and I may never have the opportunity to do this again. I'd rather like to leave a good impression. After all I am English, a Sassenach and if Jenny's reaction is any indication of how their parents might feel, I've lost before I even begin. I can only hope that Jamie's happiness is at the top of their list of things to look for in a daughter-in-law as well as the fact that I love him with all of my heart.

I have taken my time, walking slowly up the hill, stalling as I try to work out in my head exactly what I want to say to them. As I climb the path I keep an eye out for four rocks, each about the size of a potato, Ian told me when I asked. I turn and make the time to take in the idyllic scene below. One last look at just how beautiful Lallybroch is, before we leave tomorrow. I stop a moment to catch my breath and look back down at the big house. It is a splendid site nestled between the two hills. Brian had done an amazing job, designing and building it; it's placement is perfect. Lallybroch is truly a home. Filled with all the warmth, love and happiness that a home should have for the family that resides there. Yes, death and sadness as well, but I think all homes and families have their share of that. Lallybroch overall, is a Happy House. And, sadly, I am taking Jamie away from all of that now; his birthright, his sister, his home...his family. There is nothing I will ever be able to do to make up for the chaos I have caused. I am responsible for the disruption in Lallybroch's overall bliss. My coming though the Stones has led to nothing but destruction for Jamie, and now, his sister and her family as well. I love my husband with all my heart but I have been a source of mayhem to him right from the very first night. I have made one mess on top of another, all of which are detrimental rather than beneficial. I almost cost him a loving relationship with his one surviving sibling when I first arrived. I have certainly cost him an Uncle and quite possibly ruined the ties with the second. Why can I not stop ruining his life? I must find a way to end this carnage.

I enter the graveyard and face the only three markers there, designating the graves of Brian Fraser, his wife Ellen and two sons, William and Robert. Brian and Ellen are side by side, as with any good marriage they should be. Ellen's marker has little Robert placed on it as well; Jamie said his new born brother was laid to rest in his mother's arms, and then there is Willie is on the other side of his mother. The graves are prestigiously kept and the markers are beautiful. Willie's shows the most wear, which makes sense, he has been up here the longest. 16 years he has been here. His stone has a beautifully carved angel on it. Someone to watch out for him the two years he was here all alone. Ellen's marker is covered in carved roses, amazingly intricate; I almost think I can smell them. There is a small angel next to Robert's name. Brian's stone has something in Gaelic carved at the top, a poem, words of tribute or perhaps a favorite verse; I do not know.

Jamie comes up here to talk to them regularly; Jenny, I think, must as well. Jamie said he always adds a rock to each of the cairn so I do this first thing, carefully adding each of my rocks to the existing cairns. I then place the beautiful yellow roses I have collected from Ellen's vining rosebush on top. Four flowers, one for each, sticking the stem into each pile so the flowers will not fall or blow away. Well that part is complete. My gifts have been given. I have paid homage.

I clear my throat and begin, "Hello Mr. and Mrs. Fraser. And to you as well Willie and Robert. My name is Claire. Claire Beauchamp...or rather Claire Fraser, now. I am Jamie's wife, I guess that makes me either daughter-in-law or sister to each one of you. How do you do?" Oh this is awkward. I don't know how to do this... I start to turn and leave, but I feel a pull, as if someone has gently laid hold of my hand, asking me to stay, so I try again. "I know I should have visited sooner, but to be quite honest, I was not really sure you'd want a Sassenach to come, to visit. This is really a family kind of thing isn't it? And I am but a stranger to you four. Even to Jenny, I am really a stranger. I Just wanted to introduce myself to you and to tell you how very much I love your son. He is amazing. Smart, funny, intelligent, gentle, fierce, loyal, terribly handsome, compassionate and just plain wonderful. But then you know all that, don't you? What you don't know is that your son has stolen my heart. He is my everything and I adore him. There is nothing I wouldn't do for him, I want you to know that." The wind picks up and gently blows my skirts and hair in several directions, like a soft caress. I try to tuck my hair behind my ears and smooth it back down, but it's a lost cause My hair is a force of nature, all on it's own. "I know you are probably not happy that Jamie married an English lass. No one really is, except Jamie; he doesn't seem to mind my Englishness. Oh, there is Murtagh and Ian, they might be getting used to the idea as well," I say and smile.

I pause to collect my thoughts. I don't want to make a bad impression. I need to clarify what exactly it is I want to say, rather than ramble on the way I am. Jamie says he just talks to them, that the words just flow, as if he were writing a letter. Maybe that's what I should do...

"Mr. and Mrs. Fraser – too formal maybe, do you think? How about if I call you Mom and Dad? No, that doesn't feel right to me either...too informal and lacking in the proper respect, I think. How about Ellen and Brian? Will that do? I think that works best for me. Alright then Ellen, I came up here to apologize to you, and to you as well Brian. It is because of me, your brother Dougal is dead. I cannot apologize enough for the role that I played, which, ultimately, led to his untimely death. I know that Jamie has come up here to speak with you both, and I am quite sure he has explained it all to you both...and I know he did what he felt had to be done. Dougal was out of his mind when he came to Lallybroch. He was going to hurt Jenny and Ian in an effort to get to me...that's what I need to apologize for. I don't know what I did to incur your brother's wrath, Ellen, that made me such a focus of hatred for him. I thought, at the time, that I needed to leave Castle Leoch and try to return to _my time_. My attempt to leave, defying your brother Colum's direct orders to remain, ultimately led to Dougal's death. For that, I am truly sorry. More than words can express. More than you will ever know."

I look up at the clouds. It is going to rain soon, I can tell by looking at them. Life at Lallybroch has seeped into my soul; I can now accurately forecast weather. That thought makes me happy. I best hurry and finish what I need to say, as I need to be back at the big house before the rain starts to fall. "I pledge to you Ellen and Brian, here and now, that I will let no harm come to your son. I promise you, on my honor, that if Colum thirsts to avenge the death of Dougal, that it will be my life he takes, not Jamie's. Not one lovely red curl on that rock hard head will be injured on my behalf. I will not allow Jamie to die because of my errors in judgment. I swear to you both. I wish we could have met in person. I have a feeling I would really like and admire both of you. I am glad I had a moment to introduce myself to you and hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive Jamie for marrying me. Please remember, after all, I am no longer English, I am technically a Scot now."

I smile and I sigh, with relief. That did not go as badly as I feared. I turn to start to walk out of the kirkyard, look up and there is Jenny sitting on the wall. I let out a quiet scream of fright. She isn't smiling either.

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Jenny. You scared the life out of me. You should have made some sort of noise so that I would know you are here." I say trying to get my heart to stop pounding.

"What fun would that be?" Jenny asks. "I followed you to see where ya were go'n. I did'na let ya ken I was here, because I wanted to ken why you came. I did not say anyth'n because I wanted to hear what ya had to tell my family. I stayed because I wanted to tell ya how proud I am of the words ya spoke, my sister," she says with a smile and wobbles off the wall, as only a very pregnant woman can.

As we walk back down toward Lallybroch, arm in arm, Jenny rests her head against my shoulder and says, "I've always wanted a sister and now I have one." And at that moment, it starts to rain. Poor Jenny was far too pregnant to run, so we reach the house soaked to the skin and filled with laughter.

Later, in the dark, when the house is quiet with sleep and my husband thinks I am as well, he begins to tell me his heart. He whispers, "Just remember Mo Neighan Donn, it is you and me, the two of us, working together as one. For me there is only you. You are all I will ever want, desire or need. Colum and Castle Leoch will test us. Others there as well, I am sure. We must believe and have faith in each other, hold true to our course. Do not let them come between us or separate us. Do not let them drive you away from me. I don't ever want to loose you, now you are mine. There are games afoot and there are only so many we can anticipate and prepare for. Always follow your heart, Claire...it will lead you back to me."

Awake, I roll over and face my husband. "Jamie, I chose a path that did not include you, once. I promise you, I will never make that mistake again. I must live with that choice I made every day for the rest of my life. Every time I see one of Dougal's marks I am reminded of what a fool I have been. We have come Full Circle; it takes us back to Colum and Castle Leoch. That you still want me, knowing all I have cost you, to me is a miracle. I know you truly love me, that our hearts are one. You, first and foremost, I swear to you Jamie. Give me your dirk and I will make you my pledge of fealty. I will follow your instructions, without question, and to the best of my abilities.

And then to Murtagh, I will make him the promise as well; first thing tomorrow, before we leave. My heart rests easier knowing he is going with us, that he will have your back. We are so lucky to have him."

I look around the room lit only by a banked fire. I am looking for my skirt. I find it, on the floor at the foot of the bed. My sgian dhu is in the pocket. After Dougal, Jamie gave it to me and asked that I always carry it. I have always felt better having it. I rested easier being able to touch it when I was nervous or scared, like I have some control. I grab my clean handkerchief from the pocket as well and return to the bed, kneeling beside my husband.

"Mark me, Jamie. Your uncle has left cuts all over my body in a sick attempt to make me his. They are marks of anger and cruelty and I hate each and every one of them. I ask you to place your mark on me; a mark that says I am yours, yours alone. One that will remind me of our love and of the deep bond we share. It will be something that no one can take from me. And when times become difficult while we are at Castle Leoch, if I start to loose hope or my faith wavers, I can touch your mark and remind myself of what truly matters. Please." I look at him, my heart full of love for him and the fear of the unknown that lies ahead for us. I nod my head.

Jamie grabs my hand and bites the fleshy part of the base of my thumb and quickly carves the letter " **J** " in it. He takes the clean handkerchief and binds my hand.

He hands me the sgian dhu. "Do the same for me. Please Claire." I carve the letter " **C** " in his. He undoes my handkerchief places his mark on mine and wraps his plaid around our hands as they are pressed together. "Repeat after me Claire," he says.

' _Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone._

 _I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One._

 _I give ye my Spirit, 'til our Life shall be Done."_

"I love you Claire. I will na let Colum take ya from me, I swear to you." Jamie removes the plaid and wraps the handkerchief back around my palm. He pulls another one from under his pillow and I bind his hand as well. And he kisses me gently, lies down and pulls me down into his embrace. He softly strokes my hair and then allows his fingers to caress my shoulder and arm.

"I often wonder what might have been had I never attempted to leave Castle Leoch that night." I state into my husband's chest and place a gentle kiss over his heart. "Maybe all of this could have been prevented, if I had just stayed put. Do you, wonder I mean?" I ask Jamie.

"Never question the choice that you made, Claire." I say. "For if you had not tried to leave, then I am convinced I would not have ya now. You can not change the path that was taken. Dougal wanted ya, he would have found another way to take ya, is all."

I frown. I don't like that. Nestling tightly into my husbands arms, I kiss his neck and drift off into a fitful sleep.

I wake with a start. Jamie is trying to grab my flaying hands while at the same time, gather me in his arms. "It's alright Sassenach. It's only a dream. I am here, my heart. Right beside you. Listen to my voice," he says trying to sooth me and hold me tight. 'It's Jamie,' I tell myself and focus on his name. 'It's Jamie and I stop my struggles and try to relax. Jamie places my head against him, above his heart. I listen to it's beat and my racing heart begins to slow, to match his. Jamie releases me when I have calmed my struggles and am no longer screaming. He takes my shoulders in his hands and looks into my eyes to watch my face for reactions.

"Can ya tell me what that was about Claire? Did ya have a bad dream? About Dougal then?" Jamie asks as his eyes scan my face.

"I...I don't know, Jamie. I don't remember very much" I reply. "I don't remember Dougal. Did I say anything?"

There is a knock at the door and then it opens. Jenny's head pokes in. "Is everything alright?" she asks.

"Aye," Jamie replies. "Claire had a bad dream, 'tis all. Sorry to wake ya, go back to bed. I've got her."

"Aye then, let me ken if ya need anyth'in." and she quietly closes the door.

"You really don't remember?" he asks still concerned. "Not any wee bits or pieces?"

"No." I answer. "I really don't remember much at all. I was in a dark place. I could not see anything. I remember a door but it was locked. I remember screaming but that's when I woke up. I don't know where I was. I remember smelling fire, and one wall being very hot. I remember I was scared and I did not want to be in that room...like someone had put me there." I close my eyes to try to help me remember.

"Do ya remember hearing anyone else? Any voices? Any sounds?" Jamie presses.

"I wish I could," I reply. "Maybe it's just nerves about leaving tomorrow and returning to Castle Leoch. I just don't trust Colum, Jamie. Less than I trusted Dougal and that's not saying much."

"I ken Claire, but we do'na have a choice, the way I see it. The pardon you bartered for with Geillis has never come. And now with Dougal dead, we'll never see it. I could not dishonor Dougal by killing him and then fleeing; I had to return him to my uncle Colum and own up to the deed. I needed to defend the reason it had to be done. You understand that, aye?"

"Yes Jamie, that does not mean I like it," I state as I trace the stitching in the quilt that covers the bed.

Jamie gets up and goes to the table, pours a dram and walks it back to me. "Drink this," he says. "It will help settle your uneasiness." He walks back, pours himself one and drinks it in one swallow, and pour himself another one. He finds his shirt on the back of the chair and puts it on. He then finds my shift on the floor, walks over and hands it to me. "Come. Sit. We will talk. Work out what frets you so. I can not take away all your fears, but I need to understand what they are about."

I sit in the chair Jamie indicates with a point of his finger. A large padded armchair next to the fire. I pick up his plaid from the floor and wrap it around me. My hand lifts a piece of it to my nose and I inhale. It smells of Jamie...there is also wood, heather and musk, but it is Jamie's scent I need to smell. I sigh and lean back into the chair and watch him. He stops pacing, leans on the mantel and stares into the fire. His left hand is practically tapping out Morse Code on his leg. Who is really worried here, I wonder.

Jamie finally turns around and looks at me. "It all comes down to Colum, Claire. He insists on your coming. That does not sit well with me. Nor with Murtagh. Colum wants you at Castle Leoch because he thinks he can control me while you are there. He could be using you as a distraction but I think, if I were Colum, I would use you as a hostage. As long as he has you close, I will not be far and I will do his bidding. My uncle kens that. He kens I will not leave you there, with out me. So we must be smart and use this knowledge to our advantage."

Jamie and I talk long into the night. Finally, we are in accord on what must be done, and we go back to bed holding each other tightly. I fell asleep almost instantly, the feeling of total safety in my husband's strong and capable arms. I don't think I provide the same feeling of security for Jamie. I wonder if he ever went back to sleep.

I wake the next morning to find Jamie already dressed and gone. I rise, dress quickly and make my way downstairs. Jamie, Murtagh and Ian come from the laird's study just as I reach the bottom step. Jamie blinks at me in his, not so subtle, attempt to wink. I know what that is about. Jamie had Ned Gowan draw up a _Deed of_ Sasine, for Lallybroch. It arrived yesterday with the wagon sent from Castle Leoch, and he had Murtagh and I both sign as witnesses last night. Jamie's plan is to leave the document in Ian's possession. As a precaution, and hopefully Jenny will never need to know. If anything should happen to Jamie, it gives the estate directly to wee Jamie, circumventing me completely. Less than two hours later, the wagon loaded with our meager positions, we say good bye to Jenny and Ian and take the first step, of many, on the road to Castle Leoch, Colum and our future, whatever that may hold.


	18. Chapter 18 - keeping Faith

We have been back at Castle Leoch a full month now. I wish I could say a routine has been set, but I hope the established day's pattern is far from that. The fact is that most days I hardly see or speak to Jamie or Murtagh. Jamie is up before first light and back long after I am fast asleep. What could Colum need Jamie from sun up to well after sun down, 7 days a week was beyond anything I could imagine. And Murtagh? Murtagh is with Jamie. Every time I see one, I see the other. I sigh, I feel better knowing Jamie has Murtagh watching out for him but I dearly miss my husband, especially at night.

The day we arrived, Jamie was not even allowed to wash off the dirt from our travels before being summoned directly to the Laird's study. Murtagh accompanied him. Colum kept them for hours before my travel weary, bleary eyed husband finally dragged his extremely tired carcass to our bed chamber. With Mrs. Fitz's help, I had managed to have a hot bath ready for him as well as a plate of food. The same awaited Murtagh in his chamber across the hall, though I wondered if it was a waste of good water.

"How did it go?" I asked wanting to know everything that was said. My fingers were flying over the buckles and buttons in an all out effort to strip Jamie and let him soak in the hot water while he told me his tale.

"Sassenach," Jamie said with weariness heavy in his voice and barely able to climb into the tub without aid. "I promise to tell you everything, aye? Just let me soak a bit in peace and have someth'n to eat first." He settled into the tub and leaned his head back, looking directly into my concerned glass face. "Give us a kiss, please wife. I need ya Mo Neighan Donn."

The man knows I can never deny him anything when he calls me 'his brown haired lass' and I grudgingly complied with his wishes. I stopped talking, a feat in and of itself, placed a kiss on his forehead and with a bar of soap and a rag, I begin to wash off the dirt accumulated from our travel from his body, face and hair. I then start to massage the tension from his shoulders until he begins to moan my name.

As the bath water starts to cool around us and our breathing slowly returns to normal, I find myself comfortably situated and perfectly content. I rest my head against Jamie's chest with his arms stroking my back and hair as he whispers how very much he loves me. I'll never tire of hearing it. It is music to my ears.

"Ya ken Sassenach, I'd never made love in a bath before I took ya as my wife. Now I've done it twice." Jamie comments.

"That's good to know," I say with an audible sigh of contentment. "Since you were a self declared virgin when I married you. I will tell you, though, that it is a first for me as well."

Jamie grunts a stifled laugh making tiny waves in the bath water. "I thought ya were all knowing, Sassenach. Nice to know there are some things I can teach ya and somethings we will learn together," and he places a kiss on the top of my head.

"Oh, husband dear, heart of mine," I begin. "You will find there are a great many things you will have to teach me. Obedience, comes to mind, for I do not even begin know how to be that kind of wife."

I am honored with yet another smothered laugh from my husband.

"And as to learning together, children and family first and foremost. I know almost nothing about either." I turn my head and kiss Jamie under his chin, which makes him giggle; I know it to be one of his ticklish areas. "Though, I do believe we are getting the **how** down fairly well," and I smile as I comb his chest hair with my fingers.

My husbands sigh is full of contentment.

And that was the last intimate moment we shared for another week.

At first when we arrived, I tried waiting up for Jamie's return to our chamber at night. I would sit in the armchair by the fire, believing Jamie would need my council or advise after a day with Colum and his treachery. I would wake up the next morning in bed with no idea how I came to be there. Surely this is evidence that my husband had come to me at some point during the night, but I think only long enough to see me safe and then he'd slip away again. My proof is that his side of the bed is never slept in, covers never displaced or ruffled. Further proof is that I never wake when he comes or goes. I tried reading books to help keep me awake; Colum's vast library at my disposal. _Beuwulf_ in Old English, will put even the most serious of caffeine drinkers to sleep, I am sorry to say. Where is Agatha Christie or Arthur Conan Doyle when you need them? Nothing like a good mystery to keep one awake.

I tried knitting, but really, what was the point? Mrs. Fitz said, "No one needs scarves with button holes, ma dear. Yo'r just wast'n good wool. Best stick ta what ya ken, Claire. Healing."

Mending, that was even worse. Jamie takes his shirts to Colum's seamstress now. The last repair I made was to a tear in one of Jamie's shirt sleeves. In my sad attempt to repair the shirt, I managed to sew the entire sleeve closed, much to my chagrin.

Jamie laughed and said, "I do not understand how ya can be so adept at sewing human flesh and be so inept with cloth or wool Sassenach."

As a last resort, I tried waiting up in various stages of undress, even completely naked once, to entice my husband to my bed. I would wake the next morning neatly tucked under the covers and another quilt added to keep me warm. I did have a wonderfully erotic dream about Jamie the night I slept naked. Very vivid. I could almost feel Jamie biting me. So I have stopped waiting up now. I just go to bed, to sleep, pressing the 'J' carved into my palm to remind me that I am not alone. I miss my husband, desperately.

I am trying to find my place here, now that I am back. I want to keep busy; to feel useful, productive and like I am contributing somehow but I am finding that very hard to do. I am very uncomfortable being back here at the castle. Dougal was a MacKenzie, brother to their laird. Even though I was beaten, kidnapped, repeatedly raped and held against my will, it does not seem to matter, even to the women living here. It's almost like they are glad of it, that they feel I, for some reason, deserve what I got. I think I expected as much from the men but thought I would receive some support, sympathy and/or kinship from at least some of the women. They are almost harder on me for some unexplained reason. As I go about my daily duties, I see the looks they give me and even though my Gaelic is poor at best, the inflection tells me they are not wishing me well. Mrs. Fitz is supportive and because of that I am left alone, for the most part, which is better than being harassed, but makes for a lonely existence.

The beginning of the second week, Colum's page came down to my surgery and said that Colum had summoned me. At last. I rolled down my sleeves, brushed myself off, grabbed my massaging oils and followed the boy up to the Laird's study. When I entered the room, much to my surprise, both Jamie and Murtagh were there as well as Colum. They seemed to be as surprised to see me as I was to see them. Jamie was seated by the fire, but when I appeared, he smiled immediately, walked to me and kissed me on the lips. He always knows the right thing to do to calm my nerves and settle me. He walked me to the chair he had just vacated, sat me down in it and pushed a stool toward me to rest my feet upon, subtly urging me to relax. He poured a glass of wine and handed it to me as well. He then took up a position behind the chair, leaning on it's back and gently pulled at my stray curls. Murtagh came to stand beside the chair as well. We were a United Wee Fraser Clan, just as Jamie had said. It was, most definitely, a Kodak moment and me without a camera.

I truly believe Colum is partly responsible for my feeling of unwelcome at Castle Leoch. He has made no attempt to talk to me, to engage me, until now. He will need to lead by example if I am to have any chance at changing the clans feelings toward me. I think it is vital for me to be accepted in order for Jamie to have success with what he is attempting. If Colum shows me courtesy and kindness, then the rest of the clan will follow suit. He demanded that Jamie bring me with him to Castle Leoch and for the first week Colum had decided, basically, to ignored me. I hope now I will have an explanation as to why I am here. What purpose could my presents possibly serve?

Colum cleared his throat and then began. "Mistress Fraser..."

"Claire will be fine Colum," I interject. Jamie places an hand on my shoulder and gently squeezes it to remind me that I need to respect Colum as Laird. The touch is to prompt me that he is paying me a great honor by acknowledging my very existence. I reach up and place my hand over Jamie's. I closed my eyes and take a deep breath. When I opened them, Colum is watching. His eyes dart from Jamie's face to mine and back to Jamie's. Assessing us. Our relationship. Now I see, I am to be the pawn between the two master chess players? Whoever controls me, will win? Or loose...

Colum nods his head at me in acknowledgment of my request and begins anew. "Claire, I can'na tell you how verra sorry I am for the misdeeds of that miscreant brother of mine. He did not have my permission nor did I sanction his actions. You were advised not leave the castle. I had not given you my permission to leave. My brother was only obeying my orders by detaining you. That did not give him authority to treat you the way I understand he did. I have heard, from your husband and from others," and he gives Murtagh a quick glace, "of the brutality of my brother. As these accounts are at best, second hand, and my brother is no longer alive to tell me his side, I would like to hear how you tell the tale. If you would please humor me with your story."

"I have no story to tell, only truth and there is nothing humorous about it." I say with raging fury behind each word. I stiffen and start to stand to leave, when I feel Jamie's hand rest a little firmer on my shoulder and ever so slightly squeeze. With his other hand he is still playing with my curls. A master magician working his slight of hand. I can only guess at the smile that is on his face. Damn him.

"I meant no offense, Claire," Colum assured me. "Please tell me what happened here and at Beannachd, in the months you were gone."

And so I told Colum about Dougal's kidnapping me and the abuse that followed. When I got to parts that had been too painful to even tell Jamie, I could feel Jamie's hand go hard and he stopped playing with my curls. I had never told Jamie about Dougal's use of a pillow or choking me in his wicked attempt to subdue me into submission. I fought back the tears. I would not allow myself to cry in front of Colum. Ever. I had to stop every once and awhile and pretended to need a drink while I re-gained my composure. When I told Colum of our meeting with Geillis, I could see no look of surprise on his face. Jamie had not told Colum of our chance encounter with her. Neither had Murtagh. Who else knew? I noticed his eyes glanced over to his bookshelves and then back to me. If you had not been watching carefully, you would have missed it. What I said must have been a complete surprise for Colum to look away, to collect his thoughts. I said nothing of her pregnancy; a secret held just between Geillis and myself, I safely assumed. I ended with Jamie, Murtagh and I riding away from the tavern. I resumed the tale again with what I had witnessed at Lallybroch on my wedding day. When I was done, I picked up my husband's hand from my shoulder and gently kissed it's palm. My husband rested it against my cheek and placed a kiss on top of my head. I held my hand out to Murtagh, who took it in his hand and I squeezed it, hard. He firmly squeezed back.

"I will assume my husband and Murtagh filled you in on the rest," I said to Colum, in a worn out voice.

"Aye," Colum said and nodded his head. "Now Claire, I will need to ask ya to do one more thing for me and then I will have all the information I need to close this matter, once and for all. I need to ya to disrobe so that I may view the marks for myself."

All three of us looked at Colum in horror. Jamie stood tall and spoke first. "She will'na Uncle. I refuse to allow it. How can ya ask such a thing of her? Bad enough to be kidnapped and raped by one uncle, now the other wants to rape her all over again? NO! I say. I refuse to let her." He stepped around the chair and stood between Colum and I.

Murtagh stepped forward and blocked anyone from approaching me as well. He placed his hand lightly on his dirk.

A Mexican stand off, if ever there were one. I stand and gently push my way past my two men. "If I do this, Colum, will you find a way to remove the price from Jamie's head? Put your best men to the task, make it happen? Documented proof that my husband's good name has been cleared of all charges?" I notice, once again that Colum shifts his eyes to the bookshelves and then quickly back to look at me. "Will you then, on Hamish's 16th birthday, consider Dougal and Angus's deaths, as debt paid in full? Allow Jaime the choice to stay or go of his own accord, at any time of his choosing, after that day? And, as of today, will you allow both Murtagh and myself to come and go from Castle Leoch at Jamie's discretion?"

"Claire," I hear Jamie whisper. "Ya don'a have to do this. We will find another way."

I turn and face Jamie. "It's alright, you will be right here with me. He cannot hurt me. There will only be the two of us for me, I promise. Geillis failed me. Colum can get this done for you. He has the power. Let me do this, for you, for us, please." I brush the back of my hand against his cheek and wait for Jamie to approve what I want to do. He stares deep into my eyes, into my very soul and sighs. He closes his eyes and nods ever so slightly. I know he needs this. It has weighed heavily on his soul since he married me. I turn back around and face Colum. "Do we have an agreement?"

Colum nods his head.

"Pardon me if I don't trust a nod from you. I need you to say the words Colum," I say to him.

"Aye, Claire. I promise to put Ned Gowan to the task of clearing Jamie's name. It will no be a simple task, mind ya. I promise you, Jamie and Murtagh are free to go, if you so wish it on the day after Hamish turns 16. Now, I need to see for myself, just what my brother did or din'na do to ya," Colum said with an inflection of sadness and shook his head. Colum knew that Dougal had a rough side. He just could not believe that he was capable of such damage. Did not want to believe it. Rape was one thing, the savagery done to my body was on a whole different scale. Seeing would be believing.

I nodded my head to Colum and told him, "Only you. Your tacksmen will have to leave," and Colum sent them from the room.

I turned to Murtagh. "You do not have to stay," I say and give his hand a gentle squeeze. "You can leave if you wish," and I gave him my best attempt at a smile.

"I will stand by you as well Claire. You are like a daughter to me." Murtagh said looking me straight in the eye. He moved away, out of discretion, and stood over by the door. I turned to Jamie and kissed him. "I love you with all my heart," I tell him. "There is only the two of us." His eyes were wet with unshed tears. I stand, facing my husband and undress. Jamie took each garment as I removed them and laid them in the chair behind him. My shoes and leggings as well.

When I was down to my shift, Jamie stepped forward and placed his forehead against mine and whispered, "Sassenach, you are a wee, fierce warrior all on your own. I am proud, neigh honored, to call ya mine. I love you, Mo Nieghan Donn," and he untied the neck of my shift and let it float to the floor. I stepped forward the fraction of an inch that still separated us, grabbed the front of his waistcoat in my fists and I buried my face in his neck. He raised a hand and held my head in place and nodded once to Colum.

As Colum rose and walked over to view the marks, Jamie began to speak,

 _Come and let us live my Deare,  
Let us love and never feare,  
What the sowrest Fathers say:  
Brightest Sol that dyes to day  
Lives againe as blith to morrow,  
But if we darke sons of sorrow  
Set, then, how long a Night  
Shuts the Eyes of our short light!  
Then let amorous kisses dwell  
On our lips, begin and tell  
A Thousand, and a Hundred, score  
an Hundred, and a Thousand more,  
Till another Thousand smother  
That, and that wipe off another.  
Thus at last when we have numbered  
Many a Thousand, many a Hundred;  
Wee'l confound the reckoning quite,  
And lose our selves in wild delight:  
While our joyes so multiply,  
As shall mocke the envious eye._

And when Colum was finished, Jamie took a blanket from the chair and wrapped it around me. He scoped me up into his arms and carried me back to our chamber. He took me to bed and made sure I knew I was his. I never doubted it.

Four separate times I have had the same dream I told Jamie about the night before we left Lallybroch. I wake up screaming to an empty room. Within moments, Jamie is somehow there, holding me in his arms, soothing me, clutching my head to his chest, making me listen to the sound of his own beating heart – to slow my own. These nights he never leaves my side until light shows through our window. Each time I remember a little more from the dream; I hear or feel something new. It all still makes no sense to me. That night, for the fifth time, I had the dream. This time I remember a baby's cry.

I do see Jamie every night at dinner, in the dining hall. We, Jamie and I, sit at the head table with Colum, Letitia and Hamish. Murtagh has declined the invitation to sit at the table with us. I hate him for that. Leaving me alone, to sit there with no one to talk to. Not that I can blame him. He prefers to sit amongst the MacKenzie men and listen to what they know, I'm sure. Jamie is always in some deep discussion with Colum or with men that come to the table with issues. He pats me on my hand or arm every once in awhile to let me know he is aware of my presence but that's all the attention he affords me.

It is the same with Colum and Letitia for the most part. We women are just to be seen and not heard. I had always thought Jamie and I were different. I press the 'J' carved into my palm and try to wash away my doubts.

I am now in the habit of just pushing my food around my plate, having lost my appetite. I have a glass or two, or three, if Jamie is not watching too carefully, of Colum's lovely Rhenish and then, after I have put in my wifely duties of the expected hour or so of staring blindly off into space, I am allowed to excuse myself and go back to our room. If I don't excuse myself and leave, I know I will, one day, start carving my initials in the table top out of sheer boredom. I can already tell you there are exactly 107 animals and birds woven into the tapestry on the wall directly opposite me. 46 of them are dogs of various shapes, sizes and colors. 32 hunters, 19 pages, 23 ladies. I am now counting the leaves on each tree. Need I say more about how utterly bored I am?

As my luck would have it, I notice we have a lovely new lass serving us at the Laird's table. Laoghaire, and I say a couple of really bad words under my breath. Jamie seems pleased and has spoken to her more during tonight's dinner service than he has spoken to me this entire week. I, once again, press the 'J' carved into my palm, until it hurts. I know, this is Jamie, my Jamie and there is nothing to worry about. I will have faith in him, that he is doing what needs to be done for our safety. I just wish he would talk to me, hold my hand, spend that time with me and quit conversing with **her**. She just looks at me and smiles, all innocent, then bends over to fill my husbands glass, yet again. A whore shows less cleavage, I am sure. I think I am going to be sick. As a matter of fact I am, the moment I return to our room.

Well, now I have a nice little routine. Every time I eat something, I have to excuse myself from the Lairds table, quickly make my way back to our room, so I can vomit. Thank you very much, Laoghaire. If I did not know better, I'd swear she was slipping me something in my food.

This morning was the first Hall since we have arrived back at the Castle. I sit in the back and watch as Jamie stands at Colum's side during the entire event. No wonder he is exhausted every night. Jamie looks very dashing in the MacKenzie colors. Strong and Proud. Like he belongs by his uncle's side. Colum looks pleased as well. Comfortable and glad to have Jamie there. I don't remember Colum looking that pleased when Dougal stood at his side. Colum would lean over and talk to Jamie on some of the disputes or issues before dispensing justice. I don't remember Colum ever eliciting advise from Dougal either, at least not in public. It appears to me that Jamie and Colum seem to be getting along very well, very well indeed.

It almost looks like we maybe staying...that thought pops into my head out of thin air.

Tonight, not one single word from Jamie at dinner. Jamie was laughing and talking to his uncle and a man I had never seen before. Laoghaire was leaning all over Jamie making sure he had enough to see, eat and drink, while my glass and plate remained empty. When I had enough, I just got up and left; I doubt he even noticed I was gone. I could not go back to our empty room right now, I was too angry, and found myself just wandering the castle. Down hallways, up stairs, left turns, right turns, when I suddenly find I am on the roof. This is where Jamie took me to look at stars when I first came to Castle Leoch, before my failed attempt to leave, to get back to the Stones and Frank. That seems like forever ago. A breeze blows my hair around my face. The air is cool, fresh and clean and I breath deeply, clearing my lungs of the burning peat smell from the fires that constantly burn, that keep the castle warm. The fresh air starts to clear the cobwebs from my head. I sit on the hard, cold, stone, my back pressed against the wall and look up into the dark, cloudless sky. I look up to the heavens and watch the stars. It seem like there are more stars in the sky now than when I was learning the constellations as a child from Uncle Lamb while we lived in Egypt.

Without warning or premeditation, I start to cry. That was not my intention to come up here to feel sorry for myself, but that is what I am doing. I can not talk to my husband. He has enough on his plate. I must play the obedient and dutiful wife. I gave Jamie my word that I would do this, for him. Jamie is doing what needs to be done...for us. I must trust him. I close my eyes and let my mind go empty. I don't think about the things that worry me. I close them off because I can not change them right now. I try to focus on the good, like Jamie and Murtagh and Jenny, Ian, wee Jamie and their new baby.

I am suddenly aware of the cold. I open my eyes and I can see the predawn light is starting to rise over the ridge. I have been up here all night. I quickly stand, brush my skirt off, slip back down the stairs of the waking castle and find my way back to our bed chamber. As I thought, Jamie has not slept in our bed either. I undress, as quickly as one can wearing a bodice and stays, each with a thousand laces, one skirt, a bum roll, 2 underskirts and leggings. I climb into bed, pull the covers up over my head and fall fast asleep, shivering from the cold. When I awake, I find Jamie is sitting on a stool with his head slumped forward, forehead resting on my hands, which are tightly clasped in his.

I slowly, carefully, extract one of my hands from Jamie's and run my fingers though his beautiful red locks. I allow my fingernails to gently scratch his scalp.

"Sassenach," he says as his head jerks up and looks me in the face. "Where have ya been? Murtagh and I have been look'n everywhere for ya. I've been loon with worry. I came to check on ya last night and you were na here. The bed had no been slept in. When you left the table earlier than usual last night, I thought maybe ya might not be feeling so well. You've been look'n a little pale and you've not been eating, only just moving your food around your plate so I'd think ya had. Your face has been turning green when you even smell food, Mrs. Fitz says. But when I came back to our bed and you were not here... Oh, Claire, I swallowed my heart, I was so scare't. I thought something had happened to ya, again."

"Come to bed Jamie." I whisper to him.

"Oh, Sassenach, I wish that I could. I have to meet with Colum..." he begins his excuse.

I roll over, turning my back to him. "I guess you'd better go then." I almost choke on the words as I say them. Do. Not. Cry, I tell myself.

"Claire, please..."

I roll back and face him. "Jamie, by your own admission, you have not slept all night. I hardly think Colum would begrudge you a couple of hours sleep," I say. "But, if you think you need to go, then I will understand," and I roll back over, away from him.

Jamie sighs, audibly. He walks to the door, opens it and leaves, closing the door with a quiet but solid thump behind him. A tear escapes my eye and rolls onto my pillow. I know I won't be able to go back to sleep without him, so, I roll back over, I swing my feet out from under the covers and sit up. My heart aches. Is this how it is going to be then? Jamie had said we were our own _Wee Clan Fraser_ living amongst the MacKenzie. I likened us to _The Three Musketeers – One for all and All for one._ I drop my head and look down at the floor. Another tear escapes my eye and I watch it splatter on the stone floor below me.

The door opens. I look over my shoulder and see Jamie walk back in with one of Colum's pages. He walks to his desk, writes a note and hands it to the lad and tells him to take it to Himself. The lad nods his head and leaves, shutting the door behind him. Jamie bolts it. He, quickly and purposefully, removes his clothes and climbs into bed. He looks up, blue eyes dark with ideas, wets his lips and asks, "Will you join me Mrs. Fraser?"

My smile must be as big as the moon. My husband is naked and in bed, wanting me. Who wouldn't smile? I stand, turn and face him. I untie my shift at the neck, drop one shoulder and allow the shift to fall down my arm. My breast is revealed. Jamie's eyes are locked on me, waiting to see what I will do. I place two fingers in my mouth and wet them, then circle the areola and pull on my nipple. I like the noise that Jamie makes as he watches, a softy rumbling growl. I take my other hand and let them dance on the nipple hidden behind the sheer shift letting Jamie use his imagination. Jamie now growls a deep throaty sound. Oh I like that noise too, I think to myself. I let the other shoulder drop and the shift falls down my arm, allowing Jamie to see what I am doing. Without taking his eyes off me he removes enough of the covers to reveal that I have most certainly aroused him.

I now wet both sets of fingers by placing one finger at a time in my mouth and working them like they are a cool popsicle on a hot day. When I have wet two fingers from each hand, I circle, caress and pull each nipple at the same time. What I am doing to myself, feels so good that I roll my head back and groan. I lick my lips to wet them. I need to be touched. I need Jamie to touch me. I stop, let my shift drop to the floor and crawl across the bed to my husband. I have him panting. I place my lips on his and he opens his mouth to me and I gently suck his tongue. His hand is pulling my nipple and I moan into his mouth. I reach my hand down and start to stroke him. The noise he makes is of someone in exquisite pain. He is mine now, I have complete control. I roll him onto his back gently kiss my way down to his nipple and start to nip and lick it. He rolls his head back and loudly sucks in air. I carefully take my husbands balls and hold them in my hand and lightly caress them with my fingertips. I, not too tenderly, bit my way down to his cock and take it in my mouth and begin to work him into a bit of a frenzy. Just as I think he is going to release, he pulls away and flips me. Now I am on my back with him safely between my legs. And in one, two, three thrusts he has me shaking, trembling and then sighing in complete satisfaction. At the sound of my release, Jamie makes that sweet 'hitched sigh' that means he has finished as well. A sound only I know he makes. He is mine, mine alone. Completely done in, Jamie rolls off me, and pulls me into his side. The other hand finds the covers and throws them over us. I snuggle up into my husbands arms and place is hand on my breast. He smells like heaven to me. Spent, we fall asleep. We are very late for dinner.

The next morning, right after breakfast one of Mrs. Fitz girls comes into the surgery, first thing, with a bad burn on her hand. I sent the other girl out for a bowl of cold water so I can let the young girl's hand soak in it to halt the burning. While, her hand soaks, I look for the items I will need to treat the burn. I can not find my bottle lavender. When I finish debriding the burn in cold water, I like to wrap it in a layer of bandages soaked in the lavender, to keep the infection down. I can not find it. It is not where I usually keep it and I know I did not use the last of it. I find the salve I have made with dried marigold pedals added. I use it instead, finish wrapping the hand and send the girl on her way with instructions to come see me tomorrow morning. I want to change the bandages. I lean against my large table and look at my shelves and cubbies. This is not the first time I can not find something I am looking for or something is not where I left it. Once a container I was looking for was in the right place but completely empty. Twice now other containers have completely disappeared. I am missing bandages and rags as well. If I did not know any better, I'd think I was sharing my surgery with another healer. I realize it must be Mrs. Fitz. I have been out foraging in the afternoons, and she always helps those in need in my absence. I shake the thought away.

Mrs. Fitz is always doing things for Jamie and I and I have tried to make myself more useful to her in return. It helps to curb the amount of time I spend worrying about things I cannot help or change. Busy hands keep my mind off of the fact that Colum is monopolizing my husband's time. So I keep morning surgery hours and in the afternoons I help in Mrs. Fitz's gardens. There is less to do as the weather has turned colder. We leave fall behind, with its beautiful colors and cooler temperature and greet the beginning of winter. The temperature drops dramatically, like one door closing and another opening. Ice forms on the water troughs and puddles. I find I am excited for the first snow. I don't suppose ice skates or sleds have been invented yet. I don't think Mrs. Fitz would take too kindly to my using one of her serving trays as an impromptu sled but perhaps I could take a candle and wax the underside of a wide piece of wood and have a go down the nearby hill. Maybe I could make a snowman or a snow angel as well.

It has become part of my weekly habit, during the fall, of taking my basket and go gathering, in the fields or woods near the castle. Jamie does not like it if I leave the castle's protective walls, so I don't tell him when I do, but somehow, no matter how carefully I wash my hands and wipe my boots when I return, he knows where I have been. The man is part blood hound, I swear.

I have decided to forage near a stream I know that has always presents me with surprising finds. Not necessarily herbs or roots, but almost always something unexpected. I have a small collection of, what I consider to be, unique rocks. Appealing to my eye. As I walk along the waters edge a rock will jump out at me. It may be it's unusual color or shape. The rock will speak to me and I will pick it up, wash it off and place it in my basket. When I return to my surgery, I place it with the others along the mantel above the fire.

Today I walk along the edge of the woods, listening to the noise my feet make in the dead leaves that litter the ground. I looking for the trail that leads to the stream, but the leaves make it difficult for me to find. I think I must have passed it because I do not recognize the large oak when I come over the small rise. So I turn back. It does not matter if I return with an empty basket, it is just nice to be outside. As I round the bend I hear voices. At least two sets, both women. Unusual for women to be this far from the castle and I have met no one else on the trail today. I remind myself, I am also out this far. There is something oddly familiar about both voices but I do not think I recognize either nor can I understand what they are saying because they are speaking in Gaelic. I am still too far away, but from the tone I would guess they are of differing opinions on whatever they are discussing. The voices are rather loud and one of the women must be young because she is whining, thinking that will help her win the argument. Perhaps they are not from the castle at all. I keep walking and when I round the bend I see no one. The voices have stopped; they are gone. That's odd. Where could they have gone to? They had not sounded like they were in a hurry to get anywhere. I have no time to investigate. I need to get back to the castle before Jamie discovers I was out and hurry my steps.

If I had turned one last time before I rounded the bend in the path, I would have seen a pair of green eyes and long red hair watching me from the edge of the trees.


	19. Chapter 19 - Mysterious Intruders

Mysterious Intruders

I wake up, startled. I swear I hear a noise. A bump. I sit up in bed and listen. I feel beside me. Jamie's side of the bed, which is, in actuality, almost the entire bed including draping his various appendages over me, is empty. Jamie, of course, has either not visited yet or has already come and gone, I don't know which. I strain my eyes and look with what little light is provided by the banked fire, and scan the room. I see nothing but I swear I hear breathing; the soft inhale and then exhale of air. They sound a little congested as well I note to myself. The start of a cold perhaps.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" I shout. "I have a knife and I am not afraid to use it," I tell the air. I close my eyes and listen to see if I can pinpoint where the breathing is coming from. The breathing stops. They must be scared. They are holding their breath because they know I will find them. "Come out, whoever you are. Show yourself. NOW." I say with as much authority as I can muster.

"Who are ya talk'n to Sassenach?" Jamie asks as he opens the door then closes and bolts it behind him.

Like a startled cat, I hiss and leap out of the bed, jumping so high I hit my head on part of the canopy and finally come to rest in the corner of the room by the fireplace. I have scrambled there, crouching, placing my back to the wall and my sgian dhu wildly cutting the air in front of me. I scan the room for the intruder.

"Whoa there, Sassenach. It's just me, your husband." He says softly, setting his burning candle and candlestick down on the table by the bed as he slowly walks toward me. He crouches, reaches out and removes the small knife from my hand. He opens his arms and I fall into them shaking with fright. He then wraps his arm around me, pulling me into his chest. "I am sorry if I frighten you, mo chridhe," he whispers into my hair and kisses me.

When I finally find my voice, I tell him, "It wasn't you that scared me, Jamie...well it was you that made me jump and run to the corner but it was because someone was in the room with me, just before you came in. That's why I had my knife out. That's why you startled me so."

"No one passed me in the hall, Sassenach," He tells me. "I'm sure I would have come upon them as they left the room. Are you sure someone was here? Perhaps you just dreamt it."

"I'm positive. I heard breathing. Someone was in the room with me, before you came in. I swear it, Jamie." I say with conviction. "If you did not pass them in the hall, then they are still in the room," and I turn and jump up onto the bed. I grab the pillow and hold it to my chest, listening for the breathing again.

Jamie watches and senses my fear. He gives the room a through once over, to appease me. I can tell he thinks no one is in the room. He checks behind the curtains and under the bed like a dutiful father checking the room for the boogie man before tucking a small scared child in for the night. He, of course, finds no one nor anything amiss.

"Weel, you and your wee knife must have scared them up the chimney then, because there is no one but you and me here now, aye? Lets get you to bed before you give yourself a chill and end up with the ague. Out of bed, in nothing but your shift for cover, and on a cold night such as this." Jamie said with a click of his tongue as he rubs his hands up and down my arms in an effort to stop my shivering.

At least I have discovered a way to bring my husband to my bed. He removes everything but his shirt and climbs into bed with me. He takes his large, warm form, pulls me into it and then surrounds me with himself, like a heated cocoon of protection. He playfully pulls at my curls as I fall asleep. I do not remember feeling Jamie leave, but when I wake, he is gone. I had slept soundly through the night, though.

Over the next week, I repeatedly notice things moved or missing from our room. First my surgery and now our bed chamber. A favorite pair of earrings of mine are missing, ones Jamie had given me before we left Lallybroch, as well as a piece of brown ribbon. But mostly it is Jamie's things. A pair of socks went missing for a day but they were returned, left drying near the fire, clean and the holes in them darned. Then it was two of his handkerchiefs, found several days later in our room, cleaned and now with his initials 'JF' beautifully embroidered on them. Missing buttons replaced, tears and ripped seams repaired. I told Jamie I had thought he was taking them to Colum's seamstress. Jamie laughed and said, "I do'na think Letitia would be agreeable to mending my clothes as well as her families, when I have a wife of my own to do it for me."

Recently, after Jamie and I had a rather frisky night of it and our clothes had been left scattered about the room, removed in haste and tossed aside in an effort to be naked and in each others arms as quickly as possible. The next morning, while Jamie was quietly dressing for his daily pre-dawn exit, he woke me saying, "Sassenach, I can'na find my shirt. Do you ken where it is?"

"Well, where were we when you removed it?" I rolled over and asked half asleep.

"If I ken where I was standing when you relieved me of it, lass, then I'd ken where it was, wouldn't I?" He half laughed, half snorted, rather annoyingly.

I opened one very sleepy eye and leaned out over the edge of the bed and looked at the floor. There was no way for me to discern which lump was a shirt in the little light the banked fire offered. "It must be under the bed," I said with a yawn. Get a clean one from the chest and I will find it in the morning. I will need the daylight to straighten the room and find anything under there." I said trying not to wake up completely, so I could fall back to sleep after he left.

"Aye, alright then," he replied. "Do'na forget. It was a clean shirt and it had no tears as of yet, ya ken. I hate to dirty another one and make more work for ya."

"You had worn the shirt All Day and you thought it was still clean, Jamie?" I asked incredulously. I shook my head in wonderment.

He did as I suggested, acquired another one from the drawer, finished dressing, kissed me fervently and left just as Murtagh tapped on the door. And so, another day begins at Castle Leoch. Too bad the radio had not yet been invented. I could make it a daytime drama for bored housewife's to listen to while they ironed or cooked the family dinner. I laughed at my private little joke, rolled over, pulled the covers over my head and went back to sleep.

When I finally woke, I dressed and went in search of sustenance. Best to eat while I was hungry, as I still had regular bouts of nausea. While I navigated the corridors in an effort to reach the Hall and eat breakfast with Jamie, I mulled over the idea that the supplies vanishing from the surgery and the missing clothing of Jamie's were the work of two separate individuals. While it was clear to me that someone, with a knowledge of herbs and healing, was pilfering the surgery, whoever was taking Jamie's clothing was doing it out of love for him. Each item taken, had been returned within several days – cleaned and repaired. Deep in thought as to who might have enough of a crush on Jamie to be his little sewing fairy, I quickly turned a corner and I ran right into a lad, who seemed to be in a great hurry to leave the Hall. We knocked into each other with such force that we both fell to the floor, landing solidly on our asses.

He was just a boy, a young youth, maybe 8 - 10 years of age, slight build with black curly hair, dark soulful eyes, the longest eyelashes I have ever seen and a smile that would make girls swoon when he was a little older. We both looked at each other and broke out into laughter. The boy leapt to his feet, offered me his hand and helped me to stand.

"Thank you," I said and smiled. "That was quite gallant of you to help me up. I don't believe I know you. My name is Claire," I said as I brushed the back of my skirt off. That's when I noticed his rucksack shoved up against the wall. I walked over, picked it up and handed it to him.

"Pardonne-moi, madame." The boy said with trepidation in his voice and looked up and down the hall to make sure we were alone. _Pardon me madame._

"Où alliez-vous si pressé? I ask the boy. _Where are you going in such a hurry?_

"Vous es Français?" the wide eyed boy asked in a voice full of excitement and elation. _You are French?_

"Non, non Je suis Anglais mais je parle un peu de Français, mais mon mari parle couramment. Venez trouvons-le." _No, no I am English but I speak some French, but my husband is fluent. Come, let us find him._

The boy went from happy to frightened in the blink of an eye. He looked like he was about to run again, scared as any rabbit caught out in the open. His eyes were shifting up and down the corridor and startled by every noise he heard. Clearly he did not belong in the castle and he was nervous about being found. Where did he come from? What was a french boy doing at Castle Leoch, let alone in the heart of the highlands? How did he get here? I needed to find Jamie. Having been educated in France, his French was much better than mine. I needed to get the boy to my surgery and bring Jamie to him rather than drag him around the castle in my search for Jamie. Clearly the boy needed help and Jamie would be able to talk to him and get to the bottom of the how and why of the boy was here to begin with.

"Mon nome est Claire. Comment vous? Je ne vais pas te faire de mal. Viens. Je vais vous prendre un endroit sûr," and I held my hand out for him to take it. _My name is Claire. What is your name? I am not going to hurt you. Come, I will take you someplace safe._

"Claudel," the boy said, thought for a moment, and then took my hand. I turned and walked back the way I came, the way the boy was headed when we met and only stopping when I found one of Colum's pages. "I am Mrs. Fraser. Would you please find my husband and tell him I need to see him in my surgery right away. Please do not stop for anything until you have found him and delivered my message." The boy nodded his head and ran toward The Hall.

I smiled at Claudel and he returned my smile, complete with two dimples, and we did not stop again until we were safely tucked away in my surgery. Less than five minutes later, as I was washing Claudel's face and hands, I could hear running down the corridor and Jamie's voice calling my name. I turned and faced the stairs. He came flying down the small set of stairs, taking the steps in two at a time, into my surgery, eyes wide with fear. Murtagh was right at Jamie's heels with his dirk drawn. Jamie ran up to me, grabbed my shoulders and pulled me to him. He looked into my eyes, his brows knitted in confusion.

"What? What is it Sassenach? Are you hurt? Is everything alright?" He asked as he looked me over for signs of injury or bleeding. He patted me down with his hands. Seeing no injuries to me, he looked over my surgery but saw nothing amiss.

Murtagh stopped on the bottom stair, folded his arms across his chest with a scowl set on his face. "Why did ya send for us Claire?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at me as added emphasis. "The lad said he was not to stop for anything until he gave Jamie your message."

I smiled at Murtagh and gave my husband a kiss and said, "J'aimerais vous présenter Claudel" _I'd like to introduce you to Claudel._ I turned to the table Claudel was sitting on while I washed his face, only to find him gone.

"Claudel?" I whispered as I quickly looked around the room. Not seeing him, I looked under the table and did not find him there either. I stood up and slowly turned 360°, scanning the room as I did. I did not see the boy. I looked at Jamie, who in return, was looking at me with the unasked question of 'have ya been drinking, Sassenach' on the tip of his tongue. I glared at Jamie and stamped my foot in irritation.

"Claudel, où êtes-vous? N'ai pos peur. Sortir." I asked with concern. _Where are you? Do not be afraid. Come out._

Jamie cleared his throat. I looked up and he was looking at me with more than a little concern on his face. "Sassenach, ya ken ya are speaking French, aye?" and he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Yes, Jamie. I realize I am speaking French. I was stationed in France during the war, my war, remember? I think that Claudel only understands French." I looked back under the table. "Where did he go? Where would I hide if I were scared," I ask myself out loud, my fingers drumming on the table top above my head.

Jamie bent down and looked at me under the table. "Who are ya talking to Sassenach? This wee French boy?"

I turn and look at Jamie. "I am trying to find the little French boy, Jamie. That's why I sent for you. He is very scared and you speak French fluently, don't you?" We both stand again, I with my arms folded across my chest and repeated..."now, where am I hiding..." and I scanned the surgery again.

"Sassenach," Jamie said as he walked around the table and toward me. "When was the last time ya ate someth'n? I did'na see ya at breakfast this morning. Have ya taken a wee nip at the scotch ta settle ya stomach, perhaps?"

"Great," Murtagh exclaimed, rolling his eye to the ceiling. "Ya mean to tell me she's taken to drink'n before breakfast now? When did that start, Jamie?"

Jamie put his hand on my forearm and started rubbing it up and down and speaking endearments to me in Gaelic, knowing it would calm and sooth me. It always works. And as if in a trance, I turn toward him and walk into his embrace and he began to rub my back and stroke my hair. "There, there mo chridhe," he said in a soothing voice. "Let go back to the Hall and get ya a wee bit of food and drink and see if that makes ya feel a little better, Sassenach? Let's see if we can make the wee fairy French boy disappear, aye?"

I punch Jamie softly in the arm. "He is not a figment of my imagination. He's real Jamie. He was right here in my surgery. I need to find him," I said softly into his chest. "He must be very scared and hungry."

"Venez sortir le petit Claudel. Nous ne voulons pas vous nuire." Jamie said to no one, or so he thought. _Come out, come out little Claudel. We mean you no harm._ "Nous allons chercher de la nourriture. Viens avec nous." Jamie said and turned and smiled at Murtagh. _We are going to get some food. Come with us._

"Aliments? Attendez, attendez-moi. J'arrive." a voice cried out. _Food? Wait, wait for me. I am coming._ Much to Jamie and Murtagh's surprise, a small boy's head appeared from underneath the surgery's cot.

"Qu'est-ce que c'est?" Jamie exclaimed. _What is this?_

"That is Claudel, the little French boy I was trying to find." I said pulling my face from Jamie's chest. "See, not an imagined **wee** fairy" and I punched him in the chest, hard.

"Oof" Jamie said with a laugh, as my best punch hardly phased him. Both he and Murtagh exchanged glances.

"Right," Murtagh said. "I'll rustle up some food. I'll be right back" and he disappeared up the stairs.

"Asseoir," Jamie said to the boy and pointed at the cot. "S'il vous plaît." _Sit. Please._ He led Claire to the cot and sat her down beside the lad. He grabbed Claire's stool by the fire, pulled it over and sat down in front of us, placing a hand on my knee. "Qui veut me dire ce qui se passe d'abord?" Jamie asked the two of us. _Who wants to tell me what's going on first?_

By the time Murtagh came back with a platter of food, Jamie had a pretty good idea of how Claire and Claudel met, although he was still unclear as to how Claudel came to be at Castle Leoch in the first place.

"Où habite vous? Jamie asked Claude. _Where do you live?_

"À Paris, Milord." he answered with a look of wistfulness on his face. "Je suis ici comme serviteur de la sorcière, Milord. Mon employer m'a fait venir." _I'm here as the witch's servant, Milord. My employer made me come._

"Qui est votre employeur?" Jamie asks the young lad. _Who is your employer?_

"Madame Elise," he says with a smile. "Elle court une très belle pute." _She runs a very fine whore house._

"Est-ce que vous parlez un peu Anglais? Jamie asked the lad on a whim. _Do you speak any English?_ Most Parisians Jamie had known while he went to University in Paris had at least a working knowledge of English. Certainly a boy that worked in a brothel would as well.

"Oui, Milord. I mean, Yes," the boy said happily. "I speak very well the English, No?"

Jamie laughed, patted the lad on the knee and said enthusiastically "Yes. Yes ya do lad, that ya do." He turned to Claire and said, "Did ya even ask him if he spoke any English, Claire?"

I harumphed, in my very best Scottish, and glared at Jamie. I then added "Well, when I first spoke to Claudel, after we knocked each other down just outside the hall, he did not seem to understand me," she said. "His first words to me were in French, so I assumed he was French, and did not speak any English so I replied in French. Wouldn't you?" The minute it came flying out of my mouth, I realized what I had said. I closed my eyes and held up my hand to Jamie. "Yes, yes." I said quickly and firmly. "I forgot just who I was talking to. Of course **you** would think to ask, however, the thought did not occur to **me**." I opened my eyes and looked into my husband's beautiful, smiling face. His eyes full of merriment as he shook his head softly from side to side. I just could not win with this man. He had me dead to rights every time. It was so infuriating.

"Aye, Claire. But I did na ken ya had any French." he said. "You were just outside the Great Hall when ya two bumped, then were ya?"

"Yes, Jamie, I've already said as much." I added with touch of frustration in my voice. Jamie is usually quit astute; I don't often have to repeat myself...unless I've done something that worries Jamie. Then he asks me the same basic question a second time to make sure he understood, before he tells me that I've done something...none too clever, shall I say... What have I done now, I wondered and I looked down at my hands folded tightly in my lap.

"Claire," Jamie starts softly and places his bent finger under her chin and lifts her face to look her in the eye. I need to be canny in how I approach this. Claire is getting stronger every day. Almost back to the wee fiery, feisty, woman I fell in love with all those month ago before Dougal took her and almost destroyed that part of her. I do not want to discourage this growth but I need my Sassenach to understand what she may have done. "When ya first came to Castle Leoch, what were my two uncles concerned with when you arrived?" I ask her.

"If I was a whore, I suppose, Jamie. Why?" She asks me with a face full of question

"Yes, Claire, that is true, especially my uncle Dougal and the rest of the men in the traveling party. Clearly, everyone in the traveling party all though you were a 'hore, except for Murtagh, and myself of course. Now Claire, think just a wee harder... my uncles did not want you leaving Castle Leoch because they thought you...".

"That I was a spy for the English or the French?" I asked. Both Dougal and Colum had questioned me extensively about where I was from and where I was going..."Ooohhhh," I whispered, as the implication settled and stuck in my chest. I was struggling to draw breath now. I rested my eyes on Jamie's face. His expression was blank, giving me no hint of what he was thinking. Murtagh step forward and placed a hand on Jamie's shoulder. Jamie turned and looked at his godfather and I could see the look of concern pass from one to the other. "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ," I muttered. "I don't even have to look for trouble, do I, Jamie? It always manages to find me. Damn, I've made another mess for you then, haven't I?" I wanted to burst into tears but bit my lower lip hard to prevent it.

Jamie reached down and took hold of my hands. "Weel, we don't ken if anyone heard ya speaking any French, or even if anyone saw you with the strange laddie. He turns to Claudel and asks, "Does anyone in the castle ken you are here? Does anyone ken you are French?"

"No, Milord." Claudel states with assuredness. I have only been here a two weeks. I have not met anyone. I only slip into the castle at meals to take food for myself and my mistress. I used to come at night but the cook noticed things were missing and has placed guards to watch for the thief. Now I come during meals, when it is so full of people that no one notices me.

"Weel, that's the truth" Murtagh says. "I've never seen ya before." Jamie nods his head in agreement.

"And where is this witch you speak of, lad?" Jamie asks. "She is from Paris as well? What is her name?"

"The witch calls herself Melisande Robicheaux but I do not think that is her real name. She is not from France. Her french is Très mauvais," he said with a low voice. _Very bad._ "She is a friend of Le Comte St. Germain and he is one of my mistress Madame Elise's special favorite clients. Le Comte asked my mistress to help Madame Robicheaux get back something that was taken from her. That is why we are here. What ever was taken, the witch says, is here in the Castle. I do not know what it is. She has friends inside the castle that are helping her find what was stolen. When she gets it back, we will leave, she says. She will take me home to Paris."

"She kens people here in the castle, you say?" Murtagh repeats. "Do you ken who she meets with? When or where?"

"Jamie," I interrupt. "That makes sense. Someone has been taking things from my surgery. I had assumed it was Mrs. Fitz but it could be this Melisande...especially if she is familiar with the castle." That did not explain Jamie's clothing but it could be half the mystery solved. Just who is this Melisande? And then I remembered the Grimoire D'le Comte St. Germain...

"What Sassenach? What are ya think'n?" Jamie asks.

"Huh? What?" and I tuck the Grimoire to the back of my brain and focus on Jamie. "What did you say?" I ask him.

"No secrets, Claire, remember?" Jamie reminds me.

"Nice try Jamie, but I believe it was 'there could be room for secrets but not lies. When we tell each other things, we promise only to speak truths' is the way I recall it," and I smile at him.

He leans back and laughs at me. "You are getting better at this Sassenach. You keep me on my feet, aye?"

I look at him, confused until I remembered the saying, "Toes, Jamie. I keep you on your toes." and laugh right back.

Both Murtagh and Claudel look confused by the whole conversation.

Murtagh had brought a large platter of food. I took down several of the plates I had, found a couple of spoons and handed one of each to Claudel and told him to eat. I did not have to tell him twice. He filled his plate and starting shoveling food in his mouth like he had not eaten in days. Jamie grabbed a plate and a bannock, took some of the honey I use in the surgery and drizzled it over the top. He smacked his lips and licked his fingers as he ate. Murtagh took two pieces of bread and toasted them over my small fire then placed a piece of ham between them and happily munched away. I live with Hobbits, I smiled to myself, and they were eating 2nd breakfast. Next they'd be smoking pipes. Then, the smell of the food and the noise of it being eaten started to make me nauseous again. I went back to the cot, with a bucket in tow, and laid down, quietly moaning. How the hell had Laoghaire managed to poison me now? I had not eaten anything.


End file.
